Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer is one of the most profound books I’ve ever read. It’s more than a collection of words—it’s a call to live differently, to see the world as brimming with relationships, abundance, and lessons waiting to be learned. This book has become a quiet companion in my life, gently reshaping how I think, speak, and act.
So, when I discovered a course on Braiding Sweetgrass taught by the incredible Monique Gray Smith, I didn’t hesitate. Monique’s warmth and wisdom created a space where each session felt like sitting around a campfire, listening to stories with the power to transform you.
Here are the lessons that stood out to me as I reflect on the first part of this journey:
Starting with Gratitude
Monique began the course with a simple yet profound practice: gratitude. Not the fleeting “thank you” that skims the surface but a deep pause to honor the gifts we receive daily—the sun warming our skin, the rain nourishing the earth, the air filling our lungs.
This practice reminded me of Kimmerer’s teaching that gratitude is at the heart of an honorable life. Gratitude shifts our focus from scarcity to abundance, grounding us in the present moment. I realized how often I rush through life without stopping to appreciate what sustains me. Starting with gratitude set the tone for all the lessons that followed.
Unlearning the Need to Hurry
I’ve always been a bit of a rusher—squeezing as much as I can into each day, chasing a sense of accomplishment. But one of Monique’s insights was the importance of unlearning hurry.
Nature doesn’t rush. A tree grows slowly, yet it thrives. A fox moves with intention, not urgency. Slowing down felt like a radical act. It wasn’t about doing nothing; it was about being present enough to notice. When I allowed myself to move at nature’s pace, I uncovered a calm I hadn’t realized I was missing.
The Grammar of Animacy
One of the most thought-provoking lessons was the grammar of animacy. In English, we often refer to living beings—a fox or a tree—as “it,” reducing them to objects. But what if our language acknowledged their aliveness and kinship?
Monique introduced the idea of referring to living beings as “kin.” Instead of saying, “The birds are migrating south,” we might say, “Kin are flying south for the winter.” It’s a small shift, but it changes everything.
This reframing reminded me of Kimmerer’s question: “What if we didn’t have to figure everything out by ourselves?” What if the trees, rivers, and animals were teachers and companions? This perspective filled me with wonder and hope, making the world feel alive with possibilities—a place we belong to, rather than one we must conquer.
Lessons from the Honorable Harvest
The principles of the honorable harvest stayed with me long after the session ended. Simple yet profound, they hold the key to living in harmony with the earth:
Ask permission and listen for the answer.
Don’t take the first or the last.
Take only what you need.
Minimize harm.
Reciprocate the gift.
These teachings made me reflect on my own life: Do I take more than I need? Do I remember to give back? Monique reminded us that plants are some of the greatest teachers of boundaries and reciprocity. They show us how to live with care and respect—not just for the earth, but for one another.
Discovering My Bundle of Gifts
One of the most beautiful parts of the session was reflecting on our own bundle of gifts. Kimmerer writes about how each of us has unique gifts to share, gifts that bring us joy when we offer them to the world.
Monique invited us to notice what brings us joy. I found myself savoring small, luminous moments: sunlight filtering through trees, the laughter of a friend, asters and goldenrod blooming together in a meadow. These moments reminded me that joy isn’t fleeting—it’s a guide to the gifts we’re meant to share.
The Power of Imagination
The session ended with a reflection on imagination. Monique shared Kimmerer’s words: “What we imagine, we can become.” It struck me how often my imagination fills with worry or doubt. But what if I used it to dream of connection, possibility, and purpose instead?
When we use our imagination for hope rather than fear, we open a door to possibility. Anxiety fades, replaced by a belief that we are capable of becoming more than we thought.
The Invisible Threads
The most powerful takeaway? We are never alone. The world is alive with kin, wisdom, and gifts, waiting for us to notice, to listen, and to share.
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