On reciprocity
It begins with the the breath. Our inherent, inevitable back-and-forth with the world.
Or does it?
Fundamental and intuitive, breathing is an apt analogy for reciprocity — as well as the lack thereof. On average, we use nowhere near our full lung capacity. Of all the things our bodies are capable of, breath is perhaps among those most taken for granted.
The exchange between an organism and the larger ecosystem sustaining it is always ongoing. Breath, metabolism, the hydrological cycle — all reminders of this. But without a certain element of intentionality, reciprocity is not quite achieved. To receive and offer in return (instead of merely discarding) is an act born out of recognition.
What is recognition but awareness? Cultivating this seems crucial: when we notice, we can appreciate. Humbled, we are among the living things, not above them. And the living things are more numerous and ubiquitous than we knew before…
We remember.
Plato spoke of wisdom as remembering. And isn’t this what many practitioners, for example, in the field of eco-somatics are talking about today — the implicit wisdom in our cells which have been born and reborn countless times? Inhabited by a current of life much older than our individual, neatly narrated lifetimes. Our bodies, whispers of the living earth themselves, they’ve been around. They know. Through our senses and instincts we cultivate a respect towards life (self-respect is earth-respect). The external creates the internal and vice versa.
Respect.
How do we practice respect? A friend asked. By honouring? I suggested. In Finnish, the two fit into the same word (kunnioitus). Honouring seems to overlap with recognition. When we recognise the complex web of lives without which our lives simply would not exist, we treat them differently. Recognition makes room for remembering, which invites respect. In my opinion, this has a natural consequence, namely:
Reverence.
This, however, involves a degree of distance. When we revere, what do we create in order to relate more closely?
Resonance.
Listening and responding organically. Allowing it to arise, honestly, from the fabric of our intertwined lives. I remind myself all the time to ask more questions. Especially the ones that can only be asked without words.
The chalice of our bodies filling up and emptying. Are you spilling your energy everywhere, are you taking care? How soon are you asking for more?
How do we give back to life? How do we move through the world and let it move through us? My life only began after I learned to listen to the life in me. Which direction do you want to take?
This crucial inquiry is rarely encouraged, or free, which is a great tragedy of our time. So many of us entangled in narratives valuing competition over collaboration. Yet, without a genuine, curious, breathing relationship with life itself, as well as the myriad of its expressions, we have everything to lose. Taking without giving only ends in destruction.
I come back to my breath. A personal challenge and practice is to exhale fully each time. When I do, I always release more than I thought I was holding onto. A sigh of relief. To release is to liberate. To make room. The little pool of oxygen at the bottom of my lungs joins the breeze again. Soon enough, the air that swirled in my being, stirs the hair of someone I love.
Works that I remembered and revered while writing this:
James McNestor: Breath
Robin Wall Kimmerer: Braiding Sweetgrass