'SEED' SPAWNS MEMORIES OF PATRIARCHAL SUBJUGATION under the thrust of disseminating power and control. The seed is the figural locus of a Man’s lineage, bearing the weight of His identity psychologically projected into the Future. See, it’s these ideals of perfection and unity that drive Man forward, weeding out imperfect mutations and any sign of His own weakness — especially the weakness of His own origin, not to mention the fear of the Future in the form of a return to this despised origin. However, the seed is the gift of the Future in two senses — that it is both for and from Her: The possibility for the gift of hope that the idea of the Future gives to us is that very thing we give back into Her, impregnating Her with our own desires for something better (though, better for whom?). If we had no sense of the the Future, we would have no impetus for hope.
Ecofeminism understands the structural and psychological power dynamics that binarizes and stratifies masculinity and femininity to be embedded in society’s soil and coinciding with (at least) Western senses of subjecting Earth and her sprouts at the hands of humanity.
It is under the panic disorder of patriarchy that industrialization and civilization manipulates ecological forces that seem out of His control. The false sense of security we, humanity, gain from dominating the Earth symbiotically feeds heteronormative and anti-feminist mentalities. It is imperative, in this mindset, to be on top — the one who survives and is looked upon in admiration of survival — means (or at least, has meant) to subjugate and kill.
But who would have thought that the Future is, by contrast, actually in the realm of the ecological? That, instead of Her existence only as an impregnable ideal for the imagination of (at least) Western humanity to control in the same way He attempts to control Earth, or even instead of the Future being the extinction of bios altogether, She is our ecological context in which our imaginations are always and already niched; any of our concepts of time and their consequences are already accounted for in her web of chaotic perfection. That is, the Future, insofar as She is only imaginable and never Real, is imagined in such a way that our minds’ frightful forages are tangled in a web of responsibility to the futures of others. An imagination for the future is perhaps the most insidious gift given to us by evolution, allowing us to strive for our liberation from ecology itself even though it would mean our disentanglement from life — the singularity of lost relation only known in death. And yet, what She — Futurity — is is grounded in and nourished by our ecological entanglement and deep evolutionary history...
And so, what type of gift can I give away — cede — that gives me no hope, per se, but is, because of its hopelessness, that which is most worth hoping in? What can I give, perhaps without intending to, as the excess of my exhaustion, that will tend to the responsibility I am always wrapped by and in?
I’m exhausted. I give in. I give up. I give out. I give forth. I concede to the fact that I have no future of my own but that I am only of Her’s. It is because I am exhausted that I feel Earth’s exhaustion. She — Earth and its ecology — is indistinguishable from the Future, and so, in giving up, I’m ceding over to care for what She does; Her care for the Future, which is a care for Herself as a responsibility to others, is one of giving up the hope that singularity and perfection will exist. And with this context as my antecedent, I proceed forward, embedded in my inability to scatter seed alone. I have no hope: I am of Her.
Adam Donason (They/Them/Theirs) is a self-proclaimed queer psychoanalytic artist and spiritual nihilistic ethicist. They research at the intersections of queer ecology, neuropsychoanalysis, and post-holocaust philosophy. Their favorite dog is the Pomeranian.
"Mountain One" by Alex Stroup