Forgive me and assist me, sister

This is a very public prayer and apology, to a very maligned plant. It is not the plant's fault that we abuse it so. Perhaps it is the revenge of those for whom this plant was sacred, that it has killed so many: just as we committed genocide against them, their holy plant has helped us to commit a genocide of sorts against ourselves.

Like most plants and animals which we raise for our purposes, the well being and happiness of the organism involved is never part of our concern, we consider it just a machine for our use, to be raised and destroyed in such a way that only addresses our intended uses for it. This is true of every plant and animal we raise for our purposes, and it is a profoundly unholy state of affairs. As I currently consider it my path to listen to the non-human world and to care for it and to thank it for what it does for us, it would be grievously remiss for me to not fess up to a malign and abusive relationship to my sister.

Many people would find it strange for me to be expressing a sibling relationship with a plant, but I currently consider this to be, essentially, my task in life. To end, in so far as it involves me anyway, the war between the bodies of all nature and ourselves, or at least myself. To mix blood and sap in a solemn oath, that there will be respect between us, and more than respect. I am your brother. When you give to me or I am compelled to take from you, I will honor what I have received. When I give to you or you are compelled to take from me, remember me sisters. 

For the Native Americans, whose blood in a small fraction flows in my veins, it was used at every solemn occasion, the making of every peace, the asking of every favor from the spirits of nature and the giving of every thanks to them. Her smoke took their prayers out into the universe. A gift of her dried leaves was one of the most precious gifts. We, of course, being what we are, turned her into a murderous drug. I am speaking of course of my sister Nicotiana. Tobacco.

Since the age of 18 at least, I have been engaging in this malignant relationship with my sister. To be fair, for most of that time I had no idea what I was doing, just as most people don't know when they are doing when they give no thought to our system of agriculture or our use and abuse of nature. This abuse has become second nature to us. Still, when we know better, we should try to make amends.

I am struggling to try to quit smoking. I have e-cigarettes which help, but fundamentally there is something involved in actual tobacco that no e-cigarette will ever replicate. Perhaps, even though it is a twisted love, it is a kind of love I have for it. It is a sacred plant. I just need to smoke a whole ton less of it, and plus it costs a great deal. At some point in my life, I can almost guarantee that I will cease to be able to afford this. At the same time as I am trying to quit, I am trying to get on a physical fitness program and of course smoking has a very serious adverse effect on your lungs. I've been abusing my lungs for a long time, it's time to stop that.

In terms of adverse effects on the planet, of course the raising of tobacco takes land out of production for food, and due to our unhealthy agricultural systems pumps pesticides and herbicides and so on into the environment. It is amazing somehow that this is even legal, this wholesale spraying of toxins on the land. This does not mean that tobacco should never be grown, but it should return to its sacred function. It should take our prayers to the universe, not make Philip Morris richer and people sicker.

I have managed to go a few days without smoking at all, but today I broke down and got a pack. There is something about it that haunts my dreams, a kind of happiness that I miss. But what can never happen again is to smoke instinctively, thoughtlessly, unconsciously. If I smoke at all, every puff must be a prayer. I can't smoke like I did and hope to achieve what I want to in my time remaining in life. 

You were holy, a plant of prayers

your smoke rising in in the pines, over the plains, over the blue lakes

Sending your communications into the blue sky.

I assisted your enslavement in a den of thieves.

I sold your body in the slave market.

I'm sorry

I didn't know.

I pray to you now, sister

help me to either never smoke your leaves

or help me smoke them in the right way

and always hope that you will one day be free

and grown only by those who love you.

Maybe when the blue star falls from the sky

and the pure hearts inherit the world

you will only be grown for untainted reasons.

 I do not know that it will

I only hope.

Hope with me

Sister