Leave a beautiful trace
On regenerative possibilities
“Do we need to put the chairs back?” my friends asked at the end of our Ecoversities microgathering on campus.
“No, I like to leave a trace,” I replied. “Like maybe if we leave a circle of chairs, it will inspire the next group who comes into the space.”
Leave a trace, leave a beautiful trace.
Leave no trace is a common principle in outdoor recreation communities. And a necessary one. It means: pack out what you pack in - your poop, your garbage. Leave things how you left them. Don’t trash the forest. Don’t walk off-trail, leaving footprints where there is no path. Do no harm.
And at the same time, we are always leaving traces - physical, energetic. Notes, remnants, and reminders that we have been there, even if we haven’t declared it like the old school bathroom graffiti: STEPH WAS HERE. Trails of our energy in the spaces we enter, whether we carried with us love or hatred, patience or cruelty. Trails of our words left upon others’ minds and hearts. We leave traces, echoes, imprints.
We always leave a trace, and we can choose what kind of traces we leave. We leave traces of poetry on the board. Chairs in a circle. A welcome note. Mindful footsteps with imprints of love and gratitude. We take our trash but leave our beauty. We try to leave things more beautiful than we found them. Little notes of inspiration to encourage the next person who comes into the space.
A few days later, we were gathering in a different space, and there was something left on the board. I went to erase them, to clear the board, but stopped.
They were community agreements, and they were beautiful. Listen with empathy. Make space for others. Try not to judge.
A trace had been left for us. A beautiful trace. I left it there to inform our gathering, our group and the last now energetically intermingled through these words and intentions on the board. A trace from the last group to be in this space, echoing through our own.
When I think about the traces we are collectively leaving for future generations, my heart aches. Bombed out cities. Pollution. Destruction. Uranium waste lasting generations. A warming planet that becomes increasingly uninhabitable.
Collectively, we are leaving some terrible traces. Harmful traces, toxic traces.
But we can choose otherwise.
It can be a common misconception in environmental circles that humans are “the problem,” and there can even be a line of thinking that if the earth got rid of humans, everything would be fine.
I don’t agree with this logic, mainly because I believe and know in my bones that we are the earth, not something separate from it, and our task is not to minimize our impact so much as to get back into alignment, integrity, and right relationship with the larger whole we are a part of.
I believe we can do this. And maybe a small, simple way we can do this is to think about the traces we are leaving in the spaces we enter. We can leave beautiful traces in the spaces we touch. And perhaps if enough of us can do that, over and over again, we will leave a more beautiful world.
A trail of sparkle dust instead of smog.
Art instead of artillery shells.
Forests and flowers instead of scars on the earth of where forests had been.
A tiny beautiful trace I have been leaving lately are these painted rocks that the beautiful little vegetarian cafe across from campus, Tulsi Cafe y Plantas, sells in their shop. They are painted by a local artist and each one has so much character. I started this ritual with my class in Colombia, then my peace ed class, and I just passed one along to my beloveds at Ecoversities Alliance (if you have seen me in recent travels, one may have passed through your hands, too!).
I use the rocks as talking objects in my classes when we are having a circle, which we do often (whoever has the rock speaks, everyone else deeply listens), so by the time it is given away, it has passed through many hands, minds, hearts. It has held struggles and laughter, pain and joy, words and silence. In gifting the rocks, I pass it to a member of the group (the class, for example), with the intention that it eventually gets passed to another group member, and serves as a small reminder of our time together. A small reminder of the beauty we created together. A small reminder of the traces we leave with one another.
For we do - we do leave traces with each other, imprints on one another’s hearts, words rippling through our psyches, echoes in our souls. Again, I am reminded of the question: what kind of trace do we want to leave, with each other?
There was a tree in front of our house that I was in love with. It had bougainvillea growing in it and it framed the sky and hills so beautifully. I was enamored. I loved this tree. I loved how it framed the sky, flowers jutting out into the clouds. The contrast of the bright pink against the gray rainy season clouds. The view of the flowers at sunset from our balcony.
When we came home from our Christmas trip, the tree was mostly gone, all but a stark stump was left. Our landlord had to have it cut down because our neighbor was complaining about it blocking too much of the driveway, and he had grown tired of her complaints. Truth be told, it was dangerously top heavy, and may have posed a fall risk during the high wind season of January and February.
Over the weeks, new shoots have begun to sprout. The tree was still alive. It had just gotten a haircut, and was growing again.
Life regenerates. It is its nature. It wants to flourish. It wants to live, to grow again.
The scars we have left on the earth and each other have the capacity to heal, have the capacity to regenerate. Some of the damage we’ve done might be irreversible. But there is so much possibility for regeneration. This gives me immense hope. We have been leaving terrible traces, but we are not stuck in this path. We can change.
We can choose what traces we leave.
We can choose to leave life better than we found it.
We can choose to leave a trail of love wherever we go, through our energy, our words, our simplest actions.
What traces are you leaving, dear reader? Are they the traces you want to leave? How can you be more aware of the imprint you leave in a space, with your energy, words, actions?
There is a chorus to a song by the title of this post that is in my stuck in my head, a little song fragment, so I leave you with it. I used to write songs but haven’t in a long time, and this one is sticking with me. There are no verses yet- maybe you can help write them. Or maybe they already exist within the body of this post.
May these words, today and always, leave a loving trace on your heart and inspire your considerate, loving action.
With love and care,
Stephanie