We belong to our ecosystem
Writing for The Conversation, microbiologist Jennifer DeBruyn describes how our microbiome lives on after after we die, becoming a “necrobiome” to recycle our human cells into new life.
I find a kind of deep comfort in knowing that my body is a community of organisms. It is a biological fact that affirms my feeling and understanding of connection to the life around me. It’s not just comfort I feel in knowing these things but a kind of deep connectedness. Biological life is a beautiful continuum. We, in our current human forms and consciousness, only get to glimpse the briefest of moments in that continuum.
From the article:
Each human body contains a complex community of trillions of microorganisms that are important for your health while you’re alive. These microbial symbionts help you digest food, produce essential vitamins, protect you from infection and serve many other critical functions. In turn, the microbes, which are mostly concentrated in your gut, get to live in a relatively stable, warm environment with a steady supply of food.
But what happens to these symbiotic allies after you die?
Well, they flourish of course! I don’t mean to spoil the article and you should read it for the details because it’s fascinating. And though it is an incredibly stinky process it’s fundamental to life, it is life. This is why I don’t fear the “dirt” around me. I don’t use antibacterial soaps or bathe nearly as often as most people and while I keep my tiny house tidy it’s not scrubbed clean. I generally trust that the microbial ecosystem that lives in and on my skin and the rest of my body is doing what needs to be done to keep a balance.
This is also why the land around my tiny cabin is less of a garden and more of a wild space. My porch and cabin is surrounded by river oats, a grass that grows three feet tall and might appear to be “weeds” to someone who hasn’t considered what’s meant to grow in this landscape. Intermixed with it are many other natives that are a food source to insects and other critters. My cabin and I are just one element of this landscape.
This is why I don’t fear or kill spiders or other “creepy crawlies” that I find in and around my cabin. I’m in the woods and I understand that though my cabin has four walls and a roof, the ecosystem includes my cabin. I regularly find spiders inside and I fully understand that they’re not there to do me harm. They’re there because there is food to be had in and around the cabin. I find comfort in their presence and embrace the role they play in our shared lives.
We humans often wage wars against each other and perhaps, without realizing it, we also seem intent on waging war against the planet of which we are a part. Rather than understand ourselves to be of nature we seek to separate ourselves from it. We plow it, pave at and otherwise view nature as that which must be subjugated. This is especially true of the over-developed nations of the Global North where we devote an inordinate amount of effort to seal ourselves off from the natural world.
In the end it is a battle we will always loose. Sure, we have science as a tool and we should use it to improve our quality of life. And I’m not suggesting we not have comfortable homes to live in. Or that we should avoid technology. But, rather, that we would be better off if we spent more time understanding ourselves as natural animals. Yes, we’re very good at creating adaptive technology and complex societies as a result, but in the end, we are complex biological organisms living in complex ecosystems. Our health and our lives would be improved were we to make more effort at understanding the healthy, natural and essential connections that sustain us.