The Point of Insight | Giving Back

Tami Simon: Welcome to The Point of Insight. Imagine a black night sky, and in it, a point — a tiny star. And now this part gets a little weird: imagine that light pulls you like a beacon, up and through itself. You land someplace new — somewhere you’ve never been, a different way of being. That’s a point of insight.

In this episode, the point of insight came when I was preparing to interview Robin Wall Kimmerer, the ethnobotanist, member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, and author of the highly acclaimed and beloved book Braiding Sweetgrass. Before I go to interview somebody, I sit with their work. I had never read Braiding Sweetgrass before, although I’d heard so many people tell me about the book.

As I was reading it, I received what I could only call — quote-unquote — a transmission. Maybe you’ve heard that term before: that certain presentations, certain teachers, certain books can contain a transmission. From my own education in the world of meditation and Tibetan Buddhism, a transmission — a spiritual transmission — occurs when the teacher is in a certain state of being, a certain state of recognition. They know something. They feel something. They’re communicating it. And this is key: the person on the other end, the person receiving it, is open and interested.

So here I am. I’m open and interested to get to know Robin Wall Kimmerer through Braiding Sweetgrass. And as I’m reading the book, the transmission I received from the book, from her writing, was that the trees and the garden outside the living room where I was reading — everything started pulsing and breathing, and the leaves were like, “Hi. Glad you finally noticed me. I’ve been here all along, noticing you.”

Now, you may think, “Wow, what’s going on with Tami?” I actually don’t go on psychedelic journeys of any kind, because of the way I process information — I already feel extraordinarily open. If anything, I’m always trying to integrate and create a boundary frame around myself. So here I’m not taking any psychedelic drugs, but I’m reading Braiding Sweetgrass, and the trees are waving at me and saying, “Thank you, finally, for recognizing us.”

That was the point of insight: that we’re always living in a natural world that is bringing us its gifts, that is overflowing with generosity toward us — the air, the oxygen we’re breathing, the food we’re eating, the beautiful flowers and their fragrances, and all of the ways that creates the ecosystem where we live.

It’s always there, and I think there’s some part of me, honestly, that needed the point of insight to come and knock me on the head and knock me open — because I’m often rattling around in my own head, thinking about this, that, and the other thing, and not paying attention to the garden right outside my window and the cedar trees where I live.

So, deepening into the teachings I received from Braiding Sweetgrass, the point of insight for me is the point of reciprocity — what it’s like when we feel, let in, and really receive how much the natural world is giving to us. I mean, when I say that, I think it’s so obvious, and yet I was changed by Robin Wall Kimmerer’s work. I was changed by a recognition, a feeling in a deep way, of gratitude and appreciation.

And here’s the key notion about reciprocity: when we feel how much is being given to us, we want to give back. It’s a very natural thing. If somebody comes to you and says, “Oh, I brought you this great gift. I was thinking about you, and I wanted you to have it” — yes, of course, you say thank you. But I think this is a natural human thing: you don’t just say thank you, you think, “I wonder what I could give that person. They got me such a terrific gift for my birthday, my anniversary, whatever the occasion was — I want to give them something back.” That’s just how we are. Generosity begets generosity, all the time, in all of our relationships.

And here we are with the natural world — with the plant world, specifically, which is what Wall Kimmerer is writing about and speaking about as an ethnobotanist. In the interview we did, she talked about being invited to give a talk at the College of Natural Resources, where she recommended they rename the college the College of Earthly Gifts. I don’t think that actually happened. But the point is: not being in an extractive mindset when we look at the plant world as, quote-unquote, “resources” — something we act upon. Instead, we recognize the gifts we’re being given.

Really, I’m going to say it straight from my heart: the loving support that we’re being given, the unbelievable, overflowing cornucopia of beautiful, animating gifts that we’re receiving. And then the question becomes — and I think this is the key part about reciprocity — when we feel what we’re given, a desire emerges, I believe naturally: What can I give back? I want to give back. I’m going to give back.

I’m going to give back with my loving recognition. Malidoma Somé once said this to me — this was back when I lived in Boulder — he said, “You know, Tami, the trees where you live are just waiting for someone like you to finally recognize them, talk to them, and tell them how much you admire them and how beautiful you think they are. If you feel that way, you should start talking to the trees.”

And I’ve noticed, sometimes when I do that, there’s a sense of, “Oh, finally this relationship is turned on” — because I’m not just quietly receiving, I’m speaking out loud and saying back how magnificent they are. That gift of our presence, our recognition, yes, and our language, our effusiveness — and it can be our sending of love, and even more so, our care, our tending, our protection, our giving back to what is giving to us.

That’s the point of insight: recognizing what we’re given all the time, so much from the natural world around us. And then answering the question of what, through my life, my love, and my actions, I am going to give back.