“Hey, have you read braiding sweet grass yet? I think you would LOVE it, the authors writing reminds me of yours”
I sit with a smile, savoring that WhatsApp message from my son as I head to the bookstore. I pick up a copy, appreciating Robin Kimmerer’s thoughtful choice of a tactile, woven element on the book’s cover. The subtitle, Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teaching of Plants, catches my eye. As I leaf through the pages, the book falls open to p. 105, “Allegiance to Gratitude.” I start reading: “We put our minds together as one…”
Mesmerized, I feel as though Kimmerer is giving voice to my own deepest thoughts. Her references to the seven generations resonate with me. I’m hooked!
What I am reading:
Bear with me. Soon these dots will inform the thought-jumble that is surely an essay in the making. Let’s start with a look at some of the books that surround me—on my desk, by my bed, during my commute and at my dining table:
Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer
The Anxious Generation, Jon Haidt
An essay by
Have you seen it?Slow Productivity, Cal Newport
The Body Keeps the Score, Bessel van der Kolk
A quote from Kenyan Senator Crystal Asige speech at One Young World: “If all you see is all you see, then you don’t see all there is to be seen”
Iona Iverson’s Rules of Commuting, Clare Pooley
Have you read any of these? I haven’t yet finished reading them all. But I am picking up a very strong connection to the word and importance of COMMUNITY within each. In some it is the central theme, while in others it floats below the surface braiding itself between the spaces in the words.
Anxious Generation is a tough read. Haidt talks about a “Great Rewiring” of the way childhood development has altered with the advent of the front-facing camera; and apps that changed the shape of relationships from 1:1 messages painstakingly tapped on a 1-9 digital keyboard to the 1:m spray of information broadcast. I want to reach through the pages and rewind time—stop parents from handing toddlers iPhones as soothers at restaurants, un-pave the playgrounds, bring back the carefree kids who cycled around the neighbourhood, climbed the highest trees, skinned knees, and stayed out till dinnertime because an always-on vigilant community surrounded them, caring for them.
In Slow Productivity, as Cal Newport distinguishes between “busy-ness” and productivity, I found his debate on slow food compelling: that a traditional food culture has elements of trial and error, promotes communal dining and is enriched with the flavour of generational wisdom.
As I skim through Braiding Sweetgrass, I hear echoes for solutions to climate change rooted in communal care and concern for the Earth, which spills into how we show care and concern for each other, just as the Three Sisters create a mini-support system.
Spread around the feet of the corn and beans is a carpet of big broad squash leaves that intercept the light that falls among the pillars of corn. Their layered spacing uses the light, a gift from the sun, efficiently, with no waste. The organic symmetry of forms belongs together; the placement of every leaf, the harmony of shapes speak their message. Respect one another, support one another, bring your gift to the world and receive the gifts of others, and there will be enough for all.
There’s a mutual respect for life, for recognizing that “Every storm runs out of rain” (Maya Angelou). These lessons of interdependency and nature’s cyclical patterns are vital for the teen scrolling through Instagram, seeing only the best moments of their favourite influencer’s or friends’ lives. The 10-hour trek for that perfect selfie or the bad day that came before are mysteriously edited out. Being part of a larger community adds context, texture, and teaches empathy, coping, and gratitude.
Crystal Asige’s speech was first picked up my one of my mother’s sisters in Goa who forwarded it to our family chat that spans five continents. By the time I awoke in Canada it had been shared forward into everyone else’s family and cousin chats! Now that is what I call viral—where the community shares forward good ideas, encouragement, and hope. I particularly liked Crystal’s closing thoughts that we need collaboration. Her question “What about you have you not seen yet?” brought me full circle back to my 1000 day letter that I am still working on.
When I read Emma’s essay, I couldn’t help but feel the love she’s cultivated returning to her in her moment of need (after losing her wallet). She is able to lean on various members of her community as they rally to help her search.
Then there’s Iona Iverson’s Rules of Commuting—a book club pick. It’s a lovely, quick read about an anonymous group of commuters on the daily train from Hampton Court to Waterloo Station that brought back some vivid memories1. The story is heartwarming, focusing on inter-generational support. It follows these characters (whose ages are 13, 20s, 38, 58 and late 60s) as they deal with love, work (mis)fortunes, and bullying. They become an unexpected source of strength for one another, in an interesting inter-dependency. What struck me was how the 13-year-old character wasn’t written as a pithy, precocious Pippi Longstocking but returned resilience, confidence and support to her older commuting partners. It reminded me of the mentorship I received as a new hire that started with casual conversations with people a decade older while in my office café. If "Return to Work" becomes the watchword for 2025, are we also bringing back the places and spaces where we can bump into each other? Will elevators, workplace cafés and train carriages offer those casual encounters that spark serendipity, mentorship and connection?
Outlier - Cluster - Trend
"Bring back being human!" I can’t quite put my finger on it, but maybe you feel it threading its way through the variety of your feeds too. It’s in the conversations about the loneliness epidemic, the AI vs. Reality debate, and the yearning to continue loving our neighbours—even when they vote differently. It is the search for braiding back a touch of the social aspect into our increasingly digital and virtual lives.
Community. It’s that warm feeling of support, almost like a duvet wrapping itself around you.
Community. Could it be a key component that answers many of the problems above?
So what?
We, Tribe Tilt, are change makers.
We, Tribe Tilt, want a better, more collaborative world for our next generations.
We, Tribe Tilt, are a community. We provide the weft and weave to support each other and all the generations that come after.
And we are doing it by reaching out: one encouraging comment, one collaborative zoom call, one heartfelt hand-shake at a time.
Previous posts that also discussed the value of robust connections and communities:
E97: High Quality Connections: Three Circles ...
E121: Gifts upon gifts - check in on one another
E91: Your Relationships Are a 21st-century Asset
Welcome to the many new members of Tribe Tilt !
You join a wonderful group that believes we can make a difference to the people and places that are precious to us, and that we have fun, hope and agency in our lives. We believe that the best ideas can come from anyone, anywhere, at any time. Please add your voice to our conversations.
Stay healthy. From there all else becomes possible.
Until next week …
Karena
Same platform. Same carriage. Same routine. This book reminded me of all the invisible lives I would intersect with on my morning commute into Manhattan.
reminded me of that in a prior comment:
It isn’t just the gorgeous writing, it’s in the thought provoking questions, the gentle way you nudge your readers to think better—to BE better. You are a jewel.
I’m reading Braiding Sweetgrass right now and am hooked! Sometimes I can’t put it down then other times I have to because I’m so overwhelmed by the ideas she’s sharing (in a good way!)