Earth Justice and Earth Holding

As per The Global Witness Reports,
the Philippines and Brazil have notoriously been ranked among the top
countries in the world that are deadliest for
environmental defenders. Marginalized communities and Indigenous bodies are too often
at the front lines of eco-social activism and bear
the brunt of daily disasters of poverty, armed
conflict, and state terror, including climate
change. As Dharma sisters practicing mindfulness in the Plum Village tradition, we
offer our reflections on Engaged Buddhism in Earth work.
Earth
Justice and
Earth Holding
Reflections from Dharma sisters
from the Global South, Maíra
Fernandes de Melo and
Chaya Ocampo Go

CHAYA:
The term “Earth justice” for me names an
awareness that ecological harm and climate
change impact places and peoples in different ways. On one hand, as we all now live in
a time of accelerating globalization, we can
easily cultivate a kind of universal planetary
consciousness; on the other hand, if one pays
close attention to particular contexts and their
local material realities, we see bodies and
places unevenly impacted by harm. Social
identities constructed by gender, class, race,
and age interplay with political, economic,
and social conditions. Stark differences are revealed in the historical dimension, though we
may ultimately share the planet as a common
home.
As a Filipina who has lived for many years
as a migrant on stolen Indigenous lands in
Canada, I have allowed our mindfulness practices to deepen my understanding of colonial
violence—not as historical facts to intellectually know about, but as a truth to be embodied and contended with. For instance, when
walking mindfully on the concrete pavement
in downtown Toronto, my feet directly touch
Indigenous burial grounds that have been desecrated by urbanization. I touch the colonial
present we all live in.
M AÍ R A:
I sometimes like to think about justice in
terms of balance. The image of an European woman holding scales often seems more
peaceful than the one of a Nigerian man holding axes, sending sparks of fire through rocky
mountains. But maybe the Greek Themis is so
peaceful only because she’s blindfolded, her
eyes not seeing the global inequalities that
Xangô, the Orixá of Justice in Brazilian Afrodiasporic religions, is able to see. Earth justice,
for me, embodies this awareness. It unveils a
few truths behind the climate crisis.
Our current situation has manifested not
only due to our societal addiction to fossil fuels. Oil and coal are more than just a “cause”;
they are the dispositive of a way of living,
thinking, and feeling. This way of relating to
each other knows nothing but taking from
one place/people/continent to satisfy other
places/peoples/continents. As Thầy taught us,
“This is because that is.” Reparation is not just
a matter of returning museum diamonds back
to Africa—but if you are in a position to do so,
please do—it’s understanding the social, economic, and political contexts that produced
those historical inequalities. Earth justice is
not only a matter of fair energy transition. One
might change a gasoline car to an electric vehicle—and if you have the means, please do
it! But the minerals used in batteries and engineering come from deforestation and mining in my country, from another nation in the
Global South, or from the Indigenous lands
of my grandparents (which are still home to
many beings, very brave and beautiful people,
and—at a high cost—the world's leading biodiversity). The systemic change needed is not
at the level of tools, changing oil for sunlight,
WH AT I S “E ART H J U S T I CE ” ?

but at a deeper level. Could we simply not use
private cars in our daily lives? Could we be organized enough to pledge better public transportation? Could we think of a different way of
building our communities and utilizing space?
These are only some examples.
I would love to do an experiment, to express “Earth justice” in these terms: “Aware
of the suffering caused by centuries of colonialism and imperialism in very diverse,
subtle, and direct forms, I am committed to
change my lifestyle. I’m determined to give
up _______. I’ll practice deeply to be creative
when imagining the changes to make.” Now,
take three deep breaths and ask yourself: How
would you fill in the blank?
WH AT I S “E A RT H H OL DI N G” ?
C H AYA:
One of Thầy’s books is entitled The World We
Have. Thầy said that, if given the chance to
change the title, he would call it The World We
Are. The world we have today is the world we
are. Over the years, I understand that my work
for social change and environmental defense
is much less about saving an external reality and much more about continuing to fall in
love with the Earth. As the Earth holds me, I
am holding the Earth. Just as a mother holds
her children in an embrace is both tender and
powerful, Earth holding is both the softness of
comfort and the ferocity of protection. By falling in love, I fall into union—into relationship
with the Earth—and we both are held by that
embrace.
One small way I am cultivating this love
since I have returned to Manila with my family
is learning about the native trees in our urban
ecologies. These species endemic to our lands
have been threatened by colonial projects and
urbanisation; many of their names have been
forgotten by most of us locals, and they will
continue to dwindle in numbers without our
care and understanding. Remembering our native ecologies is a decolonial practice, a way to
restore what has been lost, and a beautiful invitation to become the world that we yearn for.
M AÍ R A:
As someone living in a MAPA territory (Most
Affected People and Areas), I’m used to seeing
communities struggling during and after environmental tragedies … and I’m also used to
seeing how we get out of it. The networks of solidarity created when these big events happen;
the amazing skills people develop; the incredible speed of aid, mostly given within the community itself from people who already struggle
with poverty and violence; the immense creativity with which people face such huge challenges. My comprehension of Earth holding
comes from these moments. Human beings’
cosmic capacity to hold each other, to give a
hand, to share resources—deep bonds of love
and care are generated by those situations. My
goal as an Earth holder is to generate this energy, to help create spaces where this solidarity
emerges, but without the tragedies, so that no
disaster is needed to activate our special power.
I want to see our ability to love and care flourish
without any tragic climate event.
Practicing Right Mindfulness, we can see
the seeds of greed and fear that have put us in
this situation grow not only in the world, but
also inside ourselves. Earth holding means
more than planting a tree—but if you can find
some soil, please sow it! Earth holding is also