Ask the land
An Animistic Approach to Stewardship
EcoAnxiety
I worry about the planet. I worry about all the once protected public lands that will now be opened to coal and oil corporations for exploitation, so we can drill and frack and mine pointlessly for the dregs of energy we require to keep this too fast burning society blazing.
I worry that the repercussions will be disastrous for the Earth, the trees, the animals, the plants and irreparable. We cannot replace animals that are extinct due to habitat loss from the lack of environmental protection. Old Growth trees take hundreds of years to grow back, generations of humans that would need to protect them from being clear cut.
I worry about the forests being bulldozed and the loss of carbon that keeps our air clean and regulates our climate’s heat. I worry about seas rising, mountains burning, land gone barren.
What can I do? I know worrying is pointless. I know my state representatives already agree with me. I write these essays all day long, but I’m mostly preaching to the choir. I volunteer for my local conservation organization, but this is only a small piece of the larger picture. What can I do?
My Turning Point
We recently purchased a quarter acre of land in our neighborhood. It turned out that someone else wanted it. Since we already had plans for it, we offered to trade for another parcel and began a sort of negotiation back and forth that remains unresolved. I was telling my friend Amanda about it.
Amanda has been a student of mine in Nature Intuition and EcoWriting courses for years now. In both classes, we practice modern animism and spiritual ecology. We learn how to tap into our intuition and connect physically and spiritually with the natural world to learn to listen to nature beings all around us. Of course, we all have a preternatural ability to do this; I provide a method to remind us how to return to our animistic way of being with the natural world just as our ancient ancestors did.
But sometimes, I get caught up in my worries. Sometimes, winter is long and I’m inside my house, inside my head and forget stuff.
So, when Amanda said to me, “Ask the land,” I thought, “Duh.” I was so grateful to her for reminding me that we are deeply connected with the Earth.
Our Savior Complex
I am not the protector of the planet, the savoir in the movie who shows up and fixes everything. I don’t fly in with my cape and destroy all the ignorant Captains of Industry, single-handedly revitalizing the Earth. None of us are. Humans are not.
We are in a relationship with the land. Just as on a committee for an organization with a shared mission, we would ask everyone represented for feedback. We must invite the land to the table. The Earth must be part of the conversation. What does the land say?
Modern Animism
So, I did as she asked. I didn’t have to go to the land to tune into it. Through my practice, I knew how to be in conversation from wherever I was, to tune in and listen. Listening is the most important part after asking after all.
I was surprised by what I learned.
The land was okay with not belonging to me. Since the other person’s intention was to not develop the land, the land was happy to remain as it was, untouched. My intention was to put an off-grid yurt on the land to offer to artists and writers for use. But my sense was that the land preferred to remain untouched. I wondered if another plot might be better after all.
Even if things don’t work out that way, I can ask the land again; how can I consider you? How can I make the smallest impact? What can I give you in return? Again and again, ask the land. This is how we are in relationship. This is earth reciprocity.
Reduce Eco-anxiety Through Nature Connection
It's time to ask the land what the land wants. It’s time to stop thinking we are the saviors of the Earth and instead be in conference with the planet and its needs.
When I do this, I feel that the Earth is tired. Something has shifted recently when I wasn’t looking. The Earth feels drained. I started grounding into stone and air instead of Earth to give it a break.
The Earth needs us to give back now and stop taking. It’s time we asked Earth what it wants and give it what it needs. We can’t stop the oil rigs, but we can nurture and feel the Earth as a counterbalance to the strain being put on it.
Healing Earth Practices
This can be as big as regenerative farming, sustainable housing, or conservation work, but that’s not what I’m referring to.
I mean, it’s time to sing and drum and dance to Earth. Create Altars to the Earth. It’s time to write the Earth poems and recite them aloud with friends.
It’s time to pray for the Earth in community. It’s time to send healing energy into the land. It’s time to kiss trees and walk barefoot and grow flowers, all with the intention in your heart of hearts to nurture, love and give back to the Earth.
As I do this work, I notice the worry subsided just a little bit. My worry transforms. She’s right here with us. Together we are on fire. Together we are healing. We are in communion. She hears our prayers of gratitude.
Key Takeaways:
Shift from control to collaboration: Prioritize listening to the land’s needs, recognizing Earth as an active partner in ecological stewardship.
Modern animism as a tool: Reconnect with your intuition to communicate with nature, using practices like meditation and eco-writing.
Reject savior narratives: Move beyond heroism toward collective reciprocity with the land, acknowledging humans as one small part of the larger web.
Healing through ritual: Counterbalance exploitation with creative acts and physical connection to nourish the Earth.
Transform worry into connection: Replace anxiety with grounded nature connections, trusting that small, intentional acts of care ripple into systemic healing.
