As I listen to Dr. Ingold’s youtube video on the social relationships of reindeer, a lot of different thoughts pop into my head randomly. See, anthropologists are studying human relationships with other humans. The Abrahamic religions insist that mankind is different from animals, above them on the spiritual hierarchy as the bearers of souls. Sometimes you have to pick apart some basic assumptions to get a better model of the world, while still understanding that the map is not the territory.
What even is a human? Why do I ask? Well, it wasn’t too long ago, that certain medieval Roman Catholic priests were insisting that women did not have souls. It also wasn’t that long ago that certain people insisted that people without white skin, like, say, Australian aboriginals, or dark African slaves, also were not human. If they weren’t human, then obviously, they could be bought and sold, treated as property. These concepts have not left Western Civilization. How could they? They permeate the thoughts of the old, the books which they wrote, the laws still on the books, the songs still sung in churches.
At the same time, everything is interconnected. Who here can claim a relationship with a dog? Who here can claim to be their cat’s servant? How did we ever get to the place where it is assumed that humans are separated from the world around them, and only relate to each other? That is not the case. I have relationships with the soil which grows my food, the plants I eat, the fruit flies I cultivate on my apple orchard and in my compost, and kill every year in my house during applesauce season. Humans have many more relationships with non-humans than they do with humans, especially if you count objects. Do you know anybody who is in a relationship with their car? Do they treat it better than the humans in their household?
Why is it that humans are held to be separated from their world? They’re not. The electricity in my skin passes out of my body and onto the mouse, the keyboard, the floor, and vice versa. The fungi and bacteria on my skin get replenished from the soil under my fingernails, from the homemade raisins, from the sourdough starter on the kitchen windowsill. Why would I want to separate myself from the world if gods and spirits are in it?
Ah, so here we come to the crux of the matter. If a human is mere matter, a mere body, then of course an anthropologist would only study the relationships between this body and that body, because that is all that they can see and measure. This is the result of a strict materialist worldview, which we know must not be correct. There is more here than matter. There is at least dark energy, and parts of atoms which zip across the universe in an instant, first here, and then over there. Telepathy and precognition exists. Not reliably, but still there.
If a human, instead, is a spirit, then that becomes a lot more interesting. It means that spirits can exist without bodies. It means that spirits can be anchored to a time and place or not, that spirits can inhabit humans, but also animals, and plants, and water, and soil, and rocks, and plastic, and computers, and stories. Especially stories. Then, if humans are spirits, we can talk about spirits’ relationships with other spirits. The old trope about having a relationship with Jesus takes on more meaning, even though obviously Jesus just isn’t all that into me and doesn’t answer my calls.
If a human is much more than a fire monkey, is much more than a meat popsicle, how does that change your worldview? How does that change the assumptions you make about what you want to do, and what your will is in the present? If I treat myself as a demon, who can only interact with the material world through the human body I’m possessing, does that mean that I would necessarily take better care of this body than if I identified fully and completely with this flawed vessel which will eventually break down because I’m not a Sith Lord?
I don’t have all the answers, and why would I? None of the other spirits do either. Yet relationships of spirit to spirit are still worthwhile, even to tricksters, even to the destructive ones. Knowing for sure that I am a spirit which does not die at the expiration of this human shaped body changes the foundations of my morality. I am not a Jew in Egypt, whose entire foundational myth is to kill the firstborn children of the outsiders, to steal all of their resources, and flee in the middle of the night with those resources towards greener pastures like locusts. Perhaps instead, I am a tree; taking root where I have been planted, and growing towards the light above, as well as the bigger growth towards the darkness below. A tree which only grows toward the light withers, but a tree which only grows towards the darkness, with the help of the fungi network, can maintain life and sprout decades later still alive.