67
Humans Are Humus
mood”’ (Spretnak, 1997: 433). In future, when non-dual understandings become more common
place, as necessitated by our current social and ecological crises, the non-dual relationship of
humans and humus will need to be an explicit component in any list of aspects of ‘self’, such as the
list above. Indeed, as these ‘ontolog[ies] based on dynamic and admittedly partial knowledge[s] as
well as awe toward the complexity of embodied and embedded existence… contribute substantially
to the profound social transformation that is needed’ (Spretnak, 1997: 435, emphasis in original),
soil will need to be ever present as the very foundation of this work.
Finally, many indigenous belief systems are also non-dualistic in their orientation, though
‘non-dual’ might not be the preferred term. Nancy J. Turner (2005), author of The Earth’s Blanket:
Traditional Teachings for Sustainable Living and researcher who has worked with indigenous communities for over 40 years, cited a term from the Nuu-Chah-Nulth Nation, Hishuk ish Ts’awalk,
which translates approximately to ‘everything is one’ (p. 179) when generalising about indigenous understandings of human/nature relationships. In her exploration of Navajo sand painting,
Griffn-Pierce (1992) used ‘interrelated totality’ (p. 66), while Cajete (1999) encapsulated these
complexities in the phrase the ‘theology of place’ (p. 66), which, ‘while focused specifcally on [a]
place, extended to include all of nature’ (p. 5).
While the language used to express these indigenous, non-dual understandings may differ signifcantly, the commonality is a stance against Western dualism. In example after example, Turner
(2005) juxtaposed the ‘compartmentalize[d]’ approach of ‘western society’, which separates forestry
and fsheries into different administrative and academic units, against ‘First Nations’ which ‘lived
this interconnectedness between their landscapes and resources, relying fully on all of the components and their associations simultaneously’ (p. 180, 183). She ended her exploration by invoking
the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address, which is a litany of all the beings that humans are in
relationship with, offering gratitude and thanks for the ways these ‘other’ beings help to constitute
human beings. Turner (2005) stated, ‘this prayer…epitomizes a world view in which everything is
one, and it emphasizes our need to recognize and express our appreciation to all the elements of our
universe’ (p. 206).
Griffn-Pierce (1992) offered a contrite summary of the issue of dualism: ‘What Anglos call
the pairing of opposites Navajos conceptualize as the halves of a whole, with each half necessary
for completeness’ (p. 66). She went on to quote a participant in her research as saying, ‘When you
say “opposites” it sounds like each part is whole by itself. It misses the point because you need to
include them both’ (p. 66). In other words, when humans conceive of themselves as something separate from soil, what gets lost is the larger and equally valid perspective where humans are humus.
Cajete (1999) articulated the lived experience of native people living under this dualism, which
shows up as alcoholism, depression and many other forms, in very stark terms, ‘Tewa people call
this state of schizophrenic-like existence pingeh heh (split thought or thinking, or doing things with
only half of one’s mind)’ (p. 17). But, Cajete (1999) doesn’t believe that healing this split is the exclusive task of indigenous peoples; rather, ‘it is also the task of others who consider themselves people
of place’ (p. 17), or perhaps people of the soil. According to Cajete (1999), even the word indigenous
is derived from the Latin root indu or endo, which in turn is related to the Greek word endina, which
means ‘entrails’. ‘Indigenous’ means being so completely identifed with a place that you refect its very
entrails, its insides, its soul.
Cajete (1999: 6)
CONCLUSION
All human beings, even those living in modern, dualistic cultures, are indigenous to soil, with its
microbiotic community fnding expression in our entrails. Many recent Western understandings
of soil belie that connection and, unfortunately, many attempts to reconnect humans and soil have
Humans Are Humus
mood”’ (Spretnak, 1997: 433). In future, when non-dual understandings become more common
place, as necessitated by our current social and ecological crises, the non-dual relationship of
humans and humus will need to be an explicit component in any list of aspects of ‘self’, such as the
list above. Indeed, as these ‘ontolog[ies] based on dynamic and admittedly partial knowledge[s] as
well as awe toward the complexity of embodied and embedded existence… contribute substantially
to the profound social transformation that is needed’ (Spretnak, 1997: 435, emphasis in original),
soil will need to be ever present as the very foundation of this work.
Finally, many indigenous belief systems are also non-dualistic in their orientation, though
‘non-dual’ might not be the preferred term. Nancy J. Turner (2005), author of The Earth’s Blanket:
Traditional Teachings for Sustainable Living and researcher who has worked with indigenous communities for over 40 years, cited a term from the Nuu-Chah-Nulth Nation, Hishuk ish Ts’awalk,
which translates approximately to ‘everything is one’ (p. 179) when generalising about indigenous understandings of human/nature relationships. In her exploration of Navajo sand painting,
Griffn-Pierce (1992) used ‘interrelated totality’ (p. 66), while Cajete (1999) encapsulated these
complexities in the phrase the ‘theology of place’ (p. 66), which, ‘while focused specifcally on [a]
place, extended to include all of nature’ (p. 5).
While the language used to express these indigenous, non-dual understandings may differ signifcantly, the commonality is a stance against Western dualism. In example after example, Turner
(2005) juxtaposed the ‘compartmentalize[d]’ approach of ‘western society’, which separates forestry
and fsheries into different administrative and academic units, against ‘First Nations’ which ‘lived
this interconnectedness between their landscapes and resources, relying fully on all of the components and their associations simultaneously’ (p. 180, 183). She ended her exploration by invoking
the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address, which is a litany of all the beings that humans are in
relationship with, offering gratitude and thanks for the ways these ‘other’ beings help to constitute
human beings. Turner (2005) stated, ‘this prayer…epitomizes a world view in which everything is
one, and it emphasizes our need to recognize and express our appreciation to all the elements of our
universe’ (p. 206).
Griffn-Pierce (1992) offered a contrite summary of the issue of dualism: ‘What Anglos call
the pairing of opposites Navajos conceptualize as the halves of a whole, with each half necessary
for completeness’ (p. 66). She went on to quote a participant in her research as saying, ‘When you
say “opposites” it sounds like each part is whole by itself. It misses the point because you need to
include them both’ (p. 66). In other words, when humans conceive of themselves as something separate from soil, what gets lost is the larger and equally valid perspective where humans are humus.
Cajete (1999) articulated the lived experience of native people living under this dualism, which
shows up as alcoholism, depression and many other forms, in very stark terms, ‘Tewa people call
this state of schizophrenic-like existence pingeh heh (split thought or thinking, or doing things with
only half of one’s mind)’ (p. 17). But, Cajete (1999) doesn’t believe that healing this split is the exclusive task of indigenous peoples; rather, ‘it is also the task of others who consider themselves people
of place’ (p. 17), or perhaps people of the soil. According to Cajete (1999), even the word indigenous
is derived from the Latin root indu or endo, which in turn is related to the Greek word endina, which
means ‘entrails’. ‘Indigenous’ means being so completely identifed with a place that you refect its very
entrails, its insides, its soul.
Cajete (1999: 6)
CONCLUSION
All human beings, even those living in modern, dualistic cultures, are indigenous to soil, with its
microbiotic community fnding expression in our entrails. Many recent Western understandings
of soil belie that connection and, unfortunately, many attempts to reconnect humans and soil have