Grace Under Fire: What My Son Taught Me About Composure
When my 12-year-old son faced heckling parents while umpiring a Little League game, he showed me that real composure isn’t about control—it’s about grace, even when others lose theirs.
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How We Spent Indigenous People's Day
I’ve been reading Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, a botanist, writer, and member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. Her book blends Indigenous wisdom with scientific understanding, offering a philosophy rooted in gratitude for the earth, the sun, the water, and everything that sustains life.
Kimmerer teaches that gratitude is the foundation of reciprocity. When we recognize the gifts of the earth, we naturally feel moved to give back. Reciprocity isn’t just about balance; it’s about responsibility and respect. When you take something, you honor it by using it well, not wasting it, and giving something in return, whether through care, attention, prayer, or restoration.
We read a chapter together today about the Three Sisters: corn, beans, and squash. The settlers thought Native Americans were “savages” for planting them together instead of organizing them neatly into separate rows. I asked the kids why they thought the settlers saw it that way and what the risks are of assuming others don’t know something.
We talked about how you can learn even from people you might underestimate. Everyone in the world can be your teacher if you keep your mind open to the lesson. A better question from the settlers’ perspective would have been, “I wonder why they plant those three together?”
The Three Sisters remind me of that. The corn offers its tall stalk for the beans to climb. The squash spreads its broad leaves to shade the soil and protect it from weeds. The beans work quietly underground, fixing nitrogen into the soil so that everyone thrives. When planted together, they actually produce a higher yield per acre than when grown separately — proof that cooperation can create more abundance than competition ever could. Scientists have since confirmed this ancient practice’s ecological benefits, as explored in this Smithsonian Magazine piece
Everyone contributes. Everyone gains. Everyone takes what they need and makes sure there’s enough for others.
Some would say that kind of thinking sounds naïve or even blasphemous, maybe “wreaking of communism.” But what’s wrong with respecting the place that provides everything? Why do we need more than we need? Isn’t having enough and sharing so that others may have enough a perfectly fine way to live? As the USDA has written, these indigenous planting traditions are models of sustainability we can still learn from today.
It was a quiet conversation, but a meaningful one. The kind that stays with you, like sunlight on the soil or the way beans curl around corn.
“Know what’s enough. Build what matters.”
You Might Also Like
- Nature as Teacher – A reflection on listening, humility, and what the woods can teach us about presence.
- Creating Space for Fulfillment – Finding meaning in slowing down and letting gratitude fill the quiet.
- Southwest Three Sisters Soup – Cooking with intention and honoring the ingredients that sustain us.
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