Our words create our world
I love words. I especially love words woven into poetry. Words that have our thinking trip over.
Or stop. Demanding that we go deeper into contemplation. Or lift our heads and consider – to be with the stars – a path we had not seen before.
The word Nature – a glorious word – literally means birth. To be born.
Nature is us, and we are nature. A constant state of birthing. Never fixed, never static – for life is pulsing and emergent, and the moment it is not, it is no longer life or living. Stasis is entropic.
Consider using the word Nature rather than the word environment. Environment – the state of being environed; sense of “the aggregate of the conditions in which a person or thing lives”. (Etymology Online)
To speak of the environment is to separate ourselves from it. That thing, around us, or over there. When we replace the word Nature with the word environment we propagate the very source of breakdown. Separation. Supremacy. We evoke the mechanistic world that can be fixed in a linear and dominating way.
Nature – us – does not fit a formula. There are no straight lines. Emergence and change are the baseline, not the exception.
Our words create our world.
Photo Taken September 21st 2025, Article published September 21st, 2025
