Animism

The term “animism” first entered academic discourse through anthropologist Sir Edward Burnett Tylor in his book Primitive Culture, which was published in 1871. According to Tylor, animism often includes "an idea of pervading life and will in nature," a belief that natural objects other than humans have souls. Sir Edward Tylor adopted the term animism from the writings of German scientist Georg Ernst Stahl, who had developed the term “animismus” in 1708, as a biological theory that souls formed the vital principle and that the normal phenomena of life and the abnormal phenomena of disease could be traced to spiritual causes.

So why define it? “Animism” was an invention of Western anthropologists who needed a word to describe the spiritual beliefs they encountered in indigenous populations around the world. And so "animism” is an anthropological construct used to identify common threads of spirituality between different systems of beliefs. It also illustrates the contrast between older belief systems and modern organized religion. In most cases, “animism” is not considered to be a religion in its own right, but rather a feature that is integrated into various practices and beliefs.

Though this term was coined in a more recent history, the concept, beliefs, and practices of "animism" are much older and did not require a name in order to be recognized, believed in, or practiced. These beliefs were often steeped and infused into the very fabric and way of life of an individual, a community, a culture - like dye to cloth. It’s something that a word simply cannot capture the true essence of in its scholarly definition alone.

While many indigenous cultures may be described as “animist,” the animistic perspective is so widely held and inherent to most indigenous peoples that most do not have a word in their languages that corresponds to "animism". It is simply a foundational thread of their spiritual beliefs. And those beliefs across the board and across the globe are as varied as you can imagine. The diversity of practices and rituals, beliefs, tales of lore, definitions, explanations, and spiritual ceremonies is vast.

Animism is the concept that all elements of the material world—all people, animals, geographic features, and natural phenomena—possess a spirit.

• The belief that everything is alive

• The belief in a vital force which drives organic life

• The belief that everything is divine

• The belief in individual spirits embodied in natural phenomena

• The belief in the spirit of a place (the land)

• The belief that the material universe has some level of consciousness

• The belief that the world is full of other-than-human “persons” including “salmon persons”, “tree persons”, and even “rock persons”

The term “other-than-human” persons was coined in 1960 by A. Irving Hallowell to describe the understanding by the Ojibwa people that many more things could be a person other than human beings.

“Animism” is sometimes viewed as a challenge to Western thought. Why? Because this concept implies relationality and reciprocity. Western thought divides the world into subjects and objects as well as culture and nature. It separates the “us” (humans) from the “it” (other-than-human). Those who identify and align their beliefs and practices with “animism,” perceive nature as sacred. It’s not so much about the projection of consciousness onto inanimate objects, but the respect that comes from the belief that all things have a spirit, that all things are interconnected.

It dismantles the walls built between man and nature for a society that sees nature as other or less than, sees nature as merely something that is ours for the taking - composed of objects and resources to be used at our disposal and often exploited, to displace or remove, simply because they are in the way of man’s progress and development. This mindset fails to acknowledge the critical importance of our natural world. It tends to separate human beings from it when in reality, nature is what keeps us all alive.

Humans in the developed world have become tragically disconnected from nature. We have desacralized it - in our thoughts and in our actions. It is difficult for modern society to understand the concept of “other-than-human” persons, especially when talking about things that to them, are inanimate objects, like rocks. But for the “animist”, there is no such thing as inanimate matter. All matter is animate and alive, at least in the sense that it is part of a really complex self-regulating living system.

If we see a mountain, a lake, a tree, a fox, a mushroom, as something we can connect with just as we do with other humans, imagine the hope. Through our own realization and a shift in perspective, we can resonate with what it is to be an animal, a lake, a bird, a tree. We can open the lines of communication with all things and learn their wisdom - wisdom much older than you or I. We would see the land and everything on it as sacred. As our respect and our reverence grows, so does our gratitude for what it provides.

"If we speak of matter as essentially inanimate, or inert, we establish the need for a graded hierarchy of beings: stones have no agency or experience whatsoever; bacteria have a minimal degree of life; plants have a bit more life, with a rudimentary degree of sensitivity; ‘lower’ animals are more sentient, yet still stuck in their instincts; ‘higher’ animals are more aware; while humans alone are really awake and intelligent. In this manner we continually isolate human awareness above, and apart from, the sensuous world. It takes us out of our relationship with the things around us. If, however, we assume that matter is alive and self-organizing from the get-go, then hierarchies vanish, and we are left with a wildly differentiated field of animate beings, each of which has its gifts relative to the others. And we find ourselves not above, but in the very midst of this web, our own sentience part and parcel of the sensuous landscape." -David Abram, American ecologist and philosopher

Graham Harvey, Professor of Religious Studies at the University of London and a prominent supporter of animism writes: “All that exists lives and all that lives is worthy of respect. When we respect someone we talk about them as persons, not things. The world is full of other-than-human persons. We show respect by caring: by taking care of, caring for, caring about, being careful about. We show respect by creating relationships.”

Human beings are a part of nature. And whether we purposefully or unknowingly disconnected ourselves from it - by thought, by belief, by place, by action - it doesn’t alter that truth. As our concrete jungles spread, natural places deplete. But even still... nature isn’t there, it’s here. It is home. It is within us as well as around us. Nature is us. We are nature. The collective of humans and our other-than-human community has forgotten how to live harmoniously. And that’s on us humans to repair.

In 1931, Black Elk told us that: “The four-leggeds and the wings of the air and the mother earth were supposed to be relative-like. The first thing an Indian learns is to love each other and that they should be relative-like to the four-leggeds. The Great Spirit made the flowers, the streams, the pines, the cedars—takes care of them. He takes care of me, waters me, feeds me, makes me live with plants and animals as one of them. All of nature is in us, all of us are in nature.”

Within the belief constructs of “animism,” there is relatedness. There is a connection. There is communication. There is respect. For all things. What was easily taken for granted before, now becomes sacred. Plants, trees, rivers, mountains, animals, insects, flowers, and all the Earth’s creatures are acknowledged, recognized, and respected from a place of humility and appreciation, not exploitation. Many indigenous peoples uphold powerful feelings of gratitude and indebtedness, obliging us to behave as if we are related to one another. Their feeling is one of gratitude, an overwhelming love and thankfulness for the gifts of the Creator and the earth/universe.

In modern society, in certain religious backgrounds, and for those who follow a very strict path of science with little to no room to bend into the spiritual, this belief system may seem romantic and nonsensical. How can anything other than human beings possess a spirit? How can we converse with nature? We study nature in the scientific sense. We use nature to feed us and further our progress and development. We can’t possibly believe there is a language to learn in order to seek out nature’s wisdom, right?

Animism is something that has lived without a name for centuries. I too, as a young child, did not know a name for this set of beliefs. Most were taught to me by my grandfather. Him and I - as we sat among the flowers informing the bees we wouldn’t hurt them, as we walked along the roadside telling Queen’s Ann Lace just how beautiful we thought she was and how she would remain my Grandfather’s favorite, as we thanked the tomatoes for their deliciousness plucking them straight from the vine. It wasn’t strange to me at all to talk to animals or call trees my friends. My dirty bare feet meant I had a direct connection to the earth. I looked forward to that transference of energy between us. Who needs shoes anyways? Old pines were a source of comfort. Tree limbs a place to hide. And maybe I should have been afraid during some of my animal encounters, but I never really was. In fact, human beings scare me more than anything found in the wilderness. Sometimes, I feel more understood by other-than-humans than I do humans. I am seen and heard in a way that requires no explanation or apology. I simply am. As they are. And I know of no deeper peace than being among my wild friends. I learn something new from them and about myself with each interaction. There is so much wisdom to be found.

Nature is waiting for us. To learn about the land, to learn its native flora and fauna, rivers and waterways, mountains and valleys. To once again live by the seasons, not by the clock. To move slower, to live more simply. To rewild our hearts and learn this feral tongue so that nature can teach us how to live. Helping to close the ever-growing rift between humans and other-than-humans.

I leave you with an excerpt from RWK’s book Braiding Sweetgrass:

"They [the other-than-humans] remind us of the capacity of others as our teachers, as holders of knowledge, as guides. Imagine walking through a richly inhabited world of Birch people, Bear people, Rock people, beings we think of and therefore speak of as persons worthy of our respect, of inclusion in a peopled world. We Americans are reluctant to learn a foreign language of our own species, let alone another species. But imagine the possibilities. Imagine the access we would have to different perspectives, the things we might see through other eyes, the wisdom that surrounds us. We don't have to figure out everything by ourselves: there are other intelligences other than our own, teachers all around us. Imagine how less lonely the world would be." -Robin Wall Kimmerer