On privilege and land ownership ...

Pat and I recently purchased a plot of land in eastern Ontario.  It is literally a dream come true - I have fantasized for years about living in a little off-grid cabin in the bush where I can walk out my door, immersed in a forest bath, and dive into a lake.  We plan to live there full time eventually, but for now, it's legally "vacant" - meaning not developed.  But it is far from vacant. It is teeming with life - flora and fauna and fungus all connected through water and carbon and nitrogen cycles, sugar maples running with sap, pollinators and frogs and trout and cedars and medicine and raspberry cane and granite ... an abundance of riches.  We feel bashfully privileged to be in a position to make this purchase.  A combination of life circumstances, and financial management, and loved ones who have supported us in many ways for many years.  We do not take it for granted.  

I struggle with the idea of having purchased land.  For two main reasons.  The first is that I don't think I have the right to own land - or any other natural entity.  I've had people ask me if beautiful Podo is my dog, and I've said, no but he lives with me.  This confuses people.  I've had to reframe it to shift "mine" from a possessive to simply a term that identifies the relationship.  He's "my" dog in the same way that Pat is "my" husband.  And I guess this is the same way that it is "our" land.  In the spirit that a river in New Zealand was granted legal rights, I see my "ownership" of this piece of heaven as a responsibility to steward it.  To protect it, and nurture it, and perhaps benefit from being part of its ecosystem.

The other reason I struggle is that no land in Canada is truly mine to purchase.  The land that is covered by treaties was questionably and unethically obtained.  A significant amount of land remains unceded.  And even land that was "gifted" to First Nations people is under active dispute.  I have to learn more about the history of the area on which this particular land sits, but I believe it is the traditional territory of the Anishnawbe (specifically the Mississauga and the Algonquin) and the Tyendinaga of the Mohawk nation, and included in the Crawford Purchases (although there is discord about which nation had the authority to even enter into treaty talks with the British).

How can I acknowledge that the land is not "mine" while continuing to "own" it?  As has been very poignantly pointed out, it's not enough to simply acknowledge that land is not ours; we must enact that truth, as complex as it may be.  I am intending to reach out to the local Indigenous community to explore options for making the land available for ceremony and land-based education.  I hope to share the space as much as possible with others who would benefit from spending time in a wild and rustic setting.  

There is so much talk about privilege these days.  "Your privilege is showing," is thrown as an insult.  Having sat with this idea for some time, I want to reclaim the word.  Privilege is not inherently a bad thing.  It's an acknowledgement.  Recognizing one's privilege reminds one to not take it for granted.  It reminds us that we never stand in isolation from the world - that we are part of systems and structures in which everyone has different opportunities and obstacles.  It does not take away from our efforts or our merit, but it recognizes that no one is ever in a particular situation - good or bad - purely due to their own actions.  ​And it reminds those of us with varying degrees of privilege that it is our responsibility to use that privilege to do what we can to dismantle and redesign unjust systems and structures.  

The reality is that our current systems require someone to "own" land in order to have the privilege of using it.  I hope to use my privilege to benefit the world as much as possible - from the peace that being on that land brings me personally (which benefits those with whom I interact), to sharing its abundance with others, to stewarding it to benefit the biosphere.  

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