IN RESONANCE WITH THE EARTH
We are pleased to introduce new materials for this section of our journal. We see poiesis as providing the basis for human beings' creative responses to the world of nature. The arts in particular offer forms that crystallize these responses in ways that touch and move us. "In Resonance with the Earth" contains poetry, artworks, photography and essays relevant to this theme. In this issue of the journal, this section includes poetry and artworks by Merve Kurt, an essay by Sarah West.
BONE DEEP TEACHING
Sarah West
founded her consultancy and private practice, Earthen Vision (www.earthenvision.com) to accompany professionals and organizations in harnessing the radical regeneration that can come from the inside, out, when we intentionally bring our creative, earthy selves into the workplace. Blending 15 plus years of experience working in senior level positions for provincial, local and Indigenous governments and her work as an environmental arts therapist, Sarah has honed how using a creative, land based approach makes us more effective, more efficient, and much more resilient to burnout in our places of work. Through her Triple Spiral Framework Facilitator Training, she also teaches educators & wellness professionals to deepen their ability to confidently & safely guide place-based connections between their clients and the natural world. Sarah has a Masters in public administration and an honours degree in cultural anthropology and peace studies. She is a trained mental health professional as a climate aware, environmental arts therapist, and is a professional member of the Canadian Art Therapy Association and the Climate Psychology Alliance.
Sarah lives and works in the profoundly beautiful Sunshine Coast in Lund, British Columbia, amongst mist covered mountains and generous ocean shores.
Without realizing it, I had become Woman of the Bones.
One morning I looked around and saw whitening in the summer sun
humurus of black bear
sacrum of deer
spine of racoon
skeleton of snake
skull of elk
tail of coyote
and many more.
They had all come to me, in one way or another, over the last year.
Some had been scavenged from dump piles left by hunters, neatly tucked away on dusty back forest roads. Some had come as a surprise underfoot, during a hike alongside the ocean. Some had been found by a dear one, and brought home has a gift. Some had been hunted in forests of cedar and fir nearby, processed with care and generously fed friends and family. Nothing gone to waste. Some had been run over by a car, with hungry vultures waiting overhead. Some a rare treasure spotted on remote shore.
I love these creatures dearly, in life and death.
Quietly, I had committed to working with whichever ones might arrive. And arrive they do.
They bring so much joy, and I tend to the bones of the creatures as they have come to me in their various states. Encased in skin. Maggot covered. Embedded with dirt and algae. Delicious roasts and broth. Slowly whitened by sun over time.
Hungry to achieve the perfect bone white, I forced some of them along, with long boils and bleach and vinegar and pressure washer. But in time, the bones have shown they will not be rushed.
Bear needs a slow release of the medicine-filled grease that rests in his bones. Long boils lock in his oils, and create a dank smelling, waxy coat. Rolling boils of vinegar and soap erodes, and a creamy white coat can be wiped away, softening corners and edges. Overboiling locks in a brown tint. Too much peroxide, and it yellows. Any bleach, and it yellows. In time, the damage of force and harsh ingredients reveals itself.
Feeling like a wild renegade, wielding power washer, apron and safety glasses, I blasted the flesh and brains from a beloved black bear skull. I was tired, and worn out after hours of having crouched over the maggot filled flesh, scraping and carving away the rot by the very creek Bear must have drank from in life. Engulfed in wafts of rotted flesh, I watched the white carrion eaters squirm and be carried down the clear waters, and set aside the larger pieces for careful disposal later. With a powerful burst of water, flesh separated from skull, and he lost the swirling filaments encased in his nostrils, as well as a few teeth.
Bear smiles now, with a gap-toothed grin.
Time and sun and warmth and water and soap and more time… the integrity of the bones are bolstered by it.
I might be working on the bones, but in truth, they are working on me.
With my hands, I come to know what these beings are made of. With my hands, I come to know how they move about their lands. With my hands, I come to know how they eat, and walk, and slink and hunt. How vertebra fits into vertebra fits into vertebra. How jaw bone is affixed by powerful muscle onto skull. How mobile joints glide and are gently and firmly held in place by ligament. How ribs create a shield for our most delicate organs. How gelatinous white marrow fills the hollow tubes of our limbs. How fatty brains rest in the cavernous enclosures of our skulls, with plates tightly woven together in curving crevasse.
Through my hands, these creatures teach me how my own body is knit together. What my bones and muscle and tendons and skin is capable of, and the edges of their boundaries. They teach me how my healthy spine moves. They teach me how to hold my mobile joints in place. They teach me how to release the pressure of my skull. They teach me I cannot be rushed.
These are teachings embedded bone deep, so deep that only working with my hands can release the remembrance.
There is an unshakeable pull to work with these creatures, because somewhere, bone deep, I feel their loss. I feel their loss to my ancestors. The bear, the elk - long gone from the deforested lands where my peoples first came from, yet still here in the lands my ancestors came to call home.
It is my honour, to be a Woman of the Bones, as I honour our animal kin in kind.
June 5, 2025
Reference for citations
West, S. (2025). Bone deep teaching. Ecopoiesis: Eco-Human Theory and Practice, 6(2). [open access internet journal]. – URL: http://en.ecopoiesis.ru (d/m/y).