Part of our work, then, is to enrich the impoverished soil of the possible, to cultivate through both our grand visions and our daily practices the belief that we can create societies in which it makes sense to place our lives in each other’s hands, neither exploiters nor exploited, but simply kin.1
The combination fo celestial navigation and a good working knowledge of the mud gives us the flexibility we need to respond in powerful and creative ways to even the most harrowing of circumstances.2
Courage is necessary, but if we can’t recognize the truth, or know which truths matter, it’s not enough. Even when the truth is clearly perceived and there is the courage to speak it, we have to choose which truths we tell based on the impact they have. What do these truths allow people to think about? What actions do they ignite?...
If people do not hold the views we expect their lives to generate, we need to listen more deeply, listen to the layers of stories underlying the ones they tell, until we find the layer our truths meet.3
From the start we are taught to subordinate our truths, change our names, tame our tongues, told to stop crying because it doesn’t hurt when it does, told that we can’t have the lives we want because we aren’t people enough...4
All organisms are inherently sovereign. All organisms resist harm and repair damage. This is our nature. And our nature is to tell stories about it. Because the story of what is broken becomes something whole. The story of what was forgotten becomes memory. The story of how we lost becomes new soil. The story of how we are the same as everyone and the story of how we are unique are a braided lifeline.5
1. Ecology is everything, page 7
2. Bigger is better, page 13
3. The power of story, page 45
4. The ground on which I stand, page 49
5. The ground on which I stand, page 50
