‘Aranyaka Upanishad’ : ‘Forest Spirituality’ and ancient Indian roots in ecology

sunset over aranyaka hills

 Hymn to ‘Aranyani’ from Rig Veda (CXLVI):

‘O Goddess of wild  and the forest…

…thou seekest not the city…

When the grasshopper replies and swells the bird’s voice,

‘Aranyani’ rejoices…

  • Vedic Goddess ‘Aranyani’:
    • Forests have always been central to Indian civilization. They represented the feminine principle in ‘Prakriti’ or pure nature. In the Hindu pantheon, forests have been worshipped as Goddess ‘Aranyani’. Forests are the primary source of life and fertility. The forest as a community has been viewed as a model for societal and civilizational evolution.
    • The Indian civilization was guided by the diversity, harmony and self-sustaining nature of the forest. ‘Aranya’ means forest. The ‘Aranyakas’ form the third part of the Vedas. They were developed by the hermits, living in the forests. They reflect an explicit transition in the philosophy of life of man. So ‘Aranya Samskriti’ the culture of the forest was not a condition of primitiveness but one of conscious choice. Indian culture considers the forest as the highest form of cultural evolution.
    • As a source of life nature was venerated as sacred and human evolution was measured in terms of man’s capacity to merge with her rhythms and patterns intellectually, emotionally and spiritually. The forest thus nurtured an ecological civilization in the most fundamental sense of harmony with nature. Such knowledge that came from participation in the life of the forest was the substance not just of Aranyakas or forest texts, but also the everyday beliefs of tribal and peasant society.
  • ‘Aranyani’:
      She is the Hindu goddess of the woods, forest and animals that dwell within them. Goddess Aranyani has been worshipped in India for centuries as a representation of the highest expression of life and fertility. She governs the forests and is the protectress and the guardian of animals. She is the mother of them all. Aranyani has been described as elusive and fond of quiet glades in the jungle. She is fearless of remote places. She is a rarely seen deity who is recognized in the sounds of the trees, particularly at dusk. The tinkling sounds of her anklets with bells can be heard while she is seldom seen. She seems to be dancing all the time as if she is tilling the lands while dancing. Rigvedic hymns describe how she wanders so far from the fringe of civilization. There seems to be no temple dedicated to her.
    • RIG VEDA: The Rig Veda Hymn in Book 10, Hymn 146 gives a very poetic description of the Goddess Aranyani in the forest setting: Hymn CXLVI is dedicated to her. It is also repeated in Taittiriya Brahmana.
      • Rigveda Richa: Rig Veda Book 10 Hymn 146


1. GODDESS of wild and forest who seemest to vanish from the sight.
How is it that thou seekest not the village? Art thou not afraid?

2 What time the grasshopper replies and swells the shrill cicala’s voice,
Seeming to sound with tinkling bells, the Lady of the Wood exults.

3 And, yonder, cattle seem to graze, what seems a dwelling-place appears:
Or else at eve the Lady of the Forest seems to free the wains.

4 Here one is calling to his cow, another there hath felled a tree:
At eve the dweller in the wood fancies that somebody hath screamed.

5 The Goddess never slays, unless some murderous enemy approach.
Man eats of savoury fruit and then takes, even as he wills, his rest.

6 Now have I praised the Forest Queen, sweet-scented, redolent of balm,
The Mother of all sylvan things, who tills not but hath stores of food.

. Goddess of nature and the forest, which seems to disappear from view.
. How come you do not want the people? Do not have you scared?
. At the time the grasshopper responds and the shrill voice of Cicala swells
. giving the impression with bells ringing, the Lady of the forest exult.
. And there seems to graze cattle, which resembles one is purple:
. Either the day before the Lady of the Forest seems to release the plows.
April. One here is calling your cow, another there has felled a tree:

Hymn to Agni (Rig Veda, LXV. Second Book)

‘Thou Agni… from the forest and herbs on the ground

Thou art generated pure…’

‘Through the wider Self, every living being is connected intimately and from this intimacy follows the capacity of identification and as its natural consequences the practice of non-violence. The ‘Atman’ is the self shared by all…’ (Arne Naess)

Ancient Indian Spiritualities and Ecological Perspectives:

green sadhu
Tibetan temple, Clementstown, Dehradun
Narayan Sadhu
river prayer

The religious traditions of India are rich and various, offering a depth of perspectives on life and our shared universe. Perhaps the most remarkable aspect here is a ‘green thread’ that runs through each of these spiritual traditions in their shared sense that nature in all its aspects is sacred, conscious, and a source of life and wisdom. Not only that, there is an acute recognition here that nature’s physical manifestations such as forests, trees, plants, flowers, animals, and oceans can bring healing and wellness to humans in many ways – if one could live in harmony and accordance with the laws of the universe.

Hinduism and Ecology
The Vedic traditions of Hinduism offer imagery that values the power of the natural world. Scholars of the Vedas have held forth various texts and rituals that extol the earth (bhu), the atmosphere (bhuvah), and sky (sva), as well as the goddess associated with the earth (Prthivi), and the gods associated with water (Ap), with fire and heat (Agni), and the wind (Vayu). They have noted that the centrality of these gods and goddesses suggests an underlying ecological sensitivity within the Hindu tradition.

In later Indian thought, these Vedic concepts become formalized into the Samkhya denotation of five great elements (mahabhuta): earth (prthivi), water (jal), fire (tejas), air (vayu), and space (akasa). The meditative and ritual processes of Hinduism entail awareness of these constituents of materiality. Daily worship (puja) employs and evokes these five powers.

Trees and Plants:

Hinduism has long revered the tree. Early seals from the Indus Valley cities (ca. 3000 BCE) depict the tree as a powerful symbol of abundance. References to India’s trees can be found in a wide range of literature, particularly in epic and poetic texts. India has a long history of forest protection, from the edicts of Asoka, to the individual work of various Rajas, to the modern Chipko movement, wherein women have staved off forest destruction by surrounding trees with their own bodies.

In Ayurvedic traditions, each living plant is a sacred energy-system with a deity. To approach a plant, one must offer obeisance and prayer before seeking its energy for healing and nourishment. The plant, then, willingly offers up itself for the healing of another -such is the web of life where no single being lives solely for itself but as a universal energy system with a deeper shared consciousness.

oak tree
‘look at a tree, a flower, a plant. Let your awareness rest upon it. How still they are, how deeply rooted in Being. Allow nature to teach you stillness. ~Eckhart Tolle 
Rivers, Streams, and Natural Springs:
natural spring at ‘aranyaka’
himalayan stream

Rivers have been and continue to be an integral part of Hindu religious practice. More than fifty Vedic hymns praise the Sarasvati, a river (now dry) associated with the goddess of learning and culture. The Ganges River which flows through northern India likewise is referred to as a goddess originating from the top of Siva’s head in the Himalaya Mountains, giving sustenance to hundreds of millions of modern Indians. Traditionally, the rivers of India have always been considered pure. Modern industrial contaminants and human wastes have fouled the rivers, though Ganges water still plays an important role in India’s ritual life.

Spirituality of Nature:

Hinduism offers a variety of cosmological views that may or may not situate the human in the natural world in an ecologically friendly manner. On the one hand, the agrarian and often near-wilderness images of India found in the Vedas, Upanishads, and epic texts present a style of life seemingly in tune with the elements. The Samkhya and Tantra traditions affirm the reality and efficacy of the physical world. On the other hand, the Advaita Vedanta tradition, while adopting the basic principles of Samkhya cosmology, asserts that the highest truth involves a vision of oneness that transcends nature and, in a sense, dismisses the significance of the material world by referring to it as illusion or maya.

One model of Hindu spirituality encourages physicality through yoga practices that enhance the health of the body and the vitality of the senses. Other spiritual paths advocate renunciation of all sensual attachments to the world. However, even within the paths that relegate worldly concerns to a status of secondary importance, the doctrine of Dharma emphasizes a need to act “for the sake of the good of the world.” Particularly in regard to such issues as the building of dams in the Narmada River Valley, this requires taking into account social ecology or the need to integrate environmental policy with the daily needs of tribal and other marginalized peoples.

The current worldwide ecological crisis has only emerged during the past four decades and its effects have been felt within South Asia more recently. As the region copes with decreasing air quality in its cities and degraded water in various regions, religious thinkers and activists have begun to reflect on how the broader values of Hindu tradition might contribute to fostering greater care for the earth. Gandhi’s advocacy of simple living through the principles of nonviolence (ahimsa) and holding to truthfulness (satyagraha) could give some Hindus pause as they consider the lifestyle changes engendered by contemporary consumerism. Most of the Hindu population lives within villages that, barring natural disasters such as flood or drought, are self-sustaining and use resources sparingly. However, as the population of South Asia increases, and as the modern lifestyle continues to demand consumer goods, the balance of sustainability can shatter. With appreciation and acknowledgment of the five great elements, with a new interpretation of social duty (dharma) expanded to include the ecological community, and with remembrance of its ethic of abstemiousness, the Hindu tradition can develop new modalities for caring for the earth.

Indian Goddesses and Ecology 

There appears to be a special connection in Indian spiritual traditions between  the mythology  of goddesses and forests or nature in general. The sheer beauty and loveliness of natural settings – rivers, mountains, trees, flowers and forests – are imaged in feminine deities who represent  and carry their special energies and powers. Forests are nature’s reservoirs of fertile energies and therefore places where goddesses reside in mysterious ways – in rocks, caves, tree-naves, streams, and in plants. ‘Parvati’, the consort of ‘Shiva’ is believed to have left the comfort of her father’s palace and to have spent years as a young woman in forests to earn the love of her partner, ‘Shiva’. Her ‘tapas’ is imaged in legend as becoming a tree and standing in ‘vriksha asana’ ( yoga pose) for eons of time to find the inner stillness and silence that would draw ‘Shiva’ – purest object-free consciousness – to herself.

Similarly, the early and later vedas are filled with songs to goddesses like ‘Usha’ and ‘Prithvi’ who express the utmost beauty and power of our cosmos. The ‘Prithvi Sukta’ in ‘Atharva Veda’ is among the oldest compositions to the earth in known literature. Here, the earth is envisioned as the ‘Queen of all that is and is to be’ with her ‘heart in the highest heaven’ and ‘compassed about with truth’. In a beautiful prayer to her, the poet sings:’ auspicious be thy forests, auspicious be thy hills and snow-clad mountains’ (12th Mandala, 1st Chapter ‘Atharva Veda’).

Devi in a field of flowers














The rich pantheon of feminine nature deities and goddesses in India seem to share a wealth of imagery and symbolism with their pagan counterparts in the ancient Greek and western world. Like ‘Anu’ , ‘Abnoba’, ‘Erecura’ and ‘Aveta’ of celtic mythologies, or ‘Artemis’ and ‘Aphrodite’ in greek mythologies, or ‘Freida’ in norse sagas, Indian deities express all that is enchanting and life-giving in nature and its powerful forces. They have a spiritual essence that mortals seek and feel inspired to worship  – opening both the individual senses and the creative imagination. A goddess is not only beautiful and powerful in these shared trans-continental mythic systems, she expresses the  inconcievable  and energetic wholeness of nature: light and dark, creative and transformative, life and death are both present and balanced in paradoxical and harmonious ways. Like the forests and streams she inhabits, she can cast a spell of wonder on the mortal that may be fortunate to glimpse her here and having struck, she can open doors of perception which enrich lives on earth.

Anu, celtic deity of earth
Isis, goddess of life and death


Jainism and Ecology

The Jaina tradition has existed in tandem with Hinduism in India since at least 800 BCE. Whereas the Hindu faith looks to the Vedas for texts and rituals and to the Brahman caste for religious leadership, the Jainas developed their own sacred texts (including the Acaranga Sutra, ca. 300 BCE) and follow the authority of itinerant monks and nuns who wander throughout India preaching the essential principles and practices of the faith. As indicated above, Hinduism includes both monistic and dualistic theologies, with several variations of each. Jainas ascribe to the belief in plural lifeforms populating a storied universe with hell beings at the base, humans and animals in the middle region, with gods and goddesses in the upper or heavenly domains. The goal within Jainism is to ascend to the Siddha Loka, a world beyond heaven and earth, where all the liberated souls dwell eternally in a state of energy, consciousness, and bliss. Although this goal utterly removes one from all worldly entanglements, the path to reach this highest attainment entails great care in regard to how one lives in relationship to all the other living beings that surround one in the earthly realm. Hence, from the aspect of practice, Jainism holds some interesting potential for ecological thinking, though its final goal transcends earthly (or earthy) concerns.

At the core of Jaina faith lies five vows that dictate the daily life of Jaina laypersons, monks, and nuns. These five vows, which inspired and influenced Mahatma Gandhi, are nonviolence (ahimsa), truthfulness (satya), not stealing (asteya), sexual restraint (brahmacarya), and nonpossession (aparigraha). One adheres to these vows in order to minimize harm to all possible life-forms. In Jainism, life is arranged hierarchically according to the number of senses a particular form possesses. For instance, life particles (jiva) in earth, water, fire, air, microorganisms, and plants each experience the world through the sense of touch. Worms add the sense of taste. Crawling bugs can feel, taste, and smell. Flying insects add seeing. Higher level animals, including fish and mammals, can feel, taste, smell, see, hear, and think. For observant Jainas, to hurt any being results in the thickening of one’s karma, obstructing advancement toward liberation. To reduce karma and prevent its further accrual, Jainas avoid activities associated with violence and follow a vegetarian diet. The advanced monks and nuns will sweep their path to avoid harming insects and also work at not harming even one sensed beings such as bacteria and water.

The worldview of the Jainas might be characterized as a biocosmology. Due to their perception of the “livingness” of the world, Jainas hold an affinity for the ideals of the environmental movement. The Jaina vows can easily be reinterpreted in an ecological fashion. The practice of nonviolence in the Jaina context fosters an attitude of respect for all life-forms. The observance of truthfulness prompts an investigation of the interrelatedness of things; a truthful person cannot easily dismiss the suffering caused by uncontrolled waste. The vow of not stealing can be used to reflect on the world’s limited resources and prompt one to think of the needs of future generations. Sexual restraint might help minimize population growth. The discipline of nonpossession gives one pause to think twice before indulging in the acquisition of material goods, one of the root causes of current ecological concerns. The monks and nuns, due to the heightened nature of their daily spiritual practice, leave little or no imprint on the broader ecological system. Jaina laypeople, due to their care and attention to what in other philosophical traditions is none other than inert materiality, can use their experiences of applying nonviolent principles with a new, ecological intention in mind.

The Jainas are particularly well-suited to reconsider their tradition in an ecological light, particularly because of their history of advocacy against meat eating and animal sacrifice, as well as their success at developing business areas that avoid overt violence. However, some challenges remain. One expression of environmentalism involves tree planting projects. Though Jaina laypeople might participate in such activities, their nuns and monks most likely would not plant trees because of the harm caused to the earth in the digging process. Another expression of environmentalism in India has been to establish forest preserves on property surrounding Jaina temple sites. However, this generally requires blocking access to prevent collection of fodder, resulting in a further impoverishment of struggling peasants. In addition to these questions of organic and social life, the extensive involvement of Jainas in heavy industries in India raises issues of appropriate economic activity and environmental health. These instances demonstrate the complexity of effectively applying ecological principles in a religious context.

Hinduism and Jainism offer unique resources for the creation of an earth ethic. The variegated theologies of Hinduism suggest that the earth can be seen as a manifestation of the goddess (Devi) and that she must be treated with respect; that the five elements hold great power; that simple living might serve as a model for the development of sustainable economies; and that the concept of Dharma can be reinterpreted from an earth-friendly perspective. The biocosmology of Jainism presents a worldview that stresses the interrelatedness of life-forms. Its attendant nonviolent ethic might easily be extended to embrace an earth ethics. Both traditions include a strong emphasis on asceticism that might discourage some adherents from placing too much value on earthly concerns, but, as we have seen, Hinduism and Jainism both contain concepts that can lead to the enhancement of core human-earth relations.


In this last article of our series Towards an Anarchist Ecology, after maybe sounding like we know a thing or two, we’d like to end with the idea of Unexpertness. The idea of expertise is a big barrier connecting with the land, alienated from our own experience. As if people with advanced degrees are more qualified than the rest of us to notice what is around them!

The opposite of expertise is not ignorance, it is humility and sharing. We don’t want to cultivate our own expertise, we want to generalize the practice of enthusiastically connecting with the land. We want to work hard and learn lots, but we don’t want to take on the baggage of “expert”. Anyone can get to know the land where they live, and the pressure of being an expert actually makes it harder to keep a playful and humble attitude.

In the early days of KLR’s existence, we attended a guided tree walk through the Strathcona neighbourhood of Hamilton. We were excited at the prospect of a community event dedicated to appreciating the local trees that do so much to make our neighbourhoods livable. But we were disappointed to find ourselves part of a disempowered mass of people passively trailing behind a white guy who did all the talking. Even when asked about something he didn’t know (“Does your definition of what counts as ‘native’ take into account the northward migration of Appalachian tree speciesthat has been ongoing since the last glaciation and has continued since colonization?”) he still had to act like he knew. This pretty much guaranteed that he would be the only one at the event who didn’t learn anything, and why would anyone want that?

White-bellied Nuthatch!

White-bellied Nuthatch!

We’ve dedicated a lot of our work to not being that guy. As is laid out in more detail in the Learning from the Land Guide, we try to lead from behind. We want to trust each others’ knowledge and wisdom. In our workshops, almost all of the points we would want end up being articulated by our participants, if we can help create the situations for them to experience it. One example is a workshop held in a narrow forest remnant that experienced a lot of wind damage. We were of course very excited about the fallen trees and were full of facts about all the ways they create habitat. But before we could lecture about the percentage by weight of living matter in a dead tree vs a living one, folks came back from a sit-spot full of excitement about the universes of spiders, insects, and fungus they had been sitting on.

Red-tailed Hawk

Red-tailed Hawk

It can seem overwhelming to face our own alienation from the land, but we celebrate these beginnings as ways to start filling the gaping void of this society with meaningful connections and direct experience. These kinds of breaks with authority are a big part of what anarchy is about. When we realize for ourselvesthe ways that healthy plant communities prevent erosion, or how some flycatchers and other small birds can only breed in deep forest, or how the presence of invasive junk trees can actually make wastelands richer, these truths are filled with a passionate and irresistible urgency. They are not just abstracted facts to be either memorized or forgotten – they become a part of who we are as living creatures in the world. From these places, we are guided to act in a way that is rooted in anarchist ideas.

Unexpertness involves setting aside both our own pressures to be an expert and also the reverence we hold for those who claim that title. This has lead to challenging some less visible form of authority in nature loving spaces too…

Black-capped Chickadee -- we're pretty excited about winter birds these days. How about you?

Black-capped Chickadee! We’re pretty excited about winter birds these days. How about you?

As we’ve said a few times in this series, that it’s important to resist jumping straight to big spiritual conclusions when you set out to build a relationship with the land. We want to observe and be critical, and we also want to speculate and imagine – but we especially want to be clear on which is which, and not treat our speculations as observations!

To claim unaccountable spiritual knowledge of what a plant or the land is saying to you without having a deep relationship with that land is expertly behaviour (not to mention colonial, as we discussed in Deep Listening). It is asking others to accept one’s perspective as true not based on its resonance with their own experiences, but simply on the authority of that person’s claimed special senses.

Someone's eating birch seeds... It's exciting to see birch seeds scattered in a sunny, damp spot like this, because it's just the kind of place a birch would like to grow.

Someone’s eating birch seeds… It’s exciting to see birch seeds scattered in a sunny, damp spot like this, because it’s just the kind of place a birch would like to grow.

Because it requires a deep, longterm relationship, land-based spiritual knowledge resides with elders in many traditions. Elders are valued not just for the knowledge they hold, but for their experience of gaining that knowledge and for their ability to show how people can find it for themselves. However most of us, and especially settlers, do not have access to a wise older generation to learn from. We can definitely seek out people who’ve been tackling these issues for longer than we have, but with nearly all land-based cultures either destroyed or marginalized, often the best we can do is to mourn this lack and to embrace the process of exploring without a guide.

The Wilderness Awareness School presents field guides as a way to fill the role of elders but, this is quite a problematic idea. Nearly all field guides and naturalist references are written by white, conservation-minded, settler men. We do use field guides and value them greatly, but it’s important to distinguish here between useful information and genuine wisdom. We can draw information from field guides and similar books without accepting the methods and conclusions of their authors as being particularly wise.

Anarchist Ecology is based on relationships, so it makes no sense at all to compete, to hold back what we have, or to transform our passion for the wild into a commodity on the market. We love to create resources that others can freely use, to share facilitation skills and support others in doing similar work, and we want to give it all away for free, as part of ongoing struggles against capitalism and colonialism.

Snow melt reveals the hidden trails of small mammals

Snow melt reveals the hidden trails of small mammals

Like so much of what we’ve had to say in this series, Unexpertness is about keeping the land in the centre of your practice. The desire to be an expert is ego-centric, it brings the emphasis back on to ourselves. But it’s not about us knowing things, it’s about how it’s all already written on the land and we’re just learning to see it.

And so concludes our series, Towards an Anarchist Ecology. Rooted in relationships, cultivating deep listening, urban ecology, re-enchanting, and unexpertness, along with a fierce rejection of dominator ecology – thank you for coming with us as we tried to give some flesh to these starting points for an anti-authoritarian and anti-colonial knowledge of the land. To close of this series, we’d like to share another quote from Mel Bazil’s talk at the Victoria Anarchist Bookfair. Here, he’s commenting on the Unist’ot’en action camp’s requirement that guests to the territory ask permission before entering:

“But you’re not just asking permission, like rights. But how can we share in the responsibilities to be on the land. Sharing responsibilities, sharing the law. Self-regulation. To me, that totally relates to anarchy. So when we’re conducting this protocol, we called in the Free Prior and Informed Consent protocol. But we weren’t mirroring something from the United Nations, we weren’t mirroring something from a hierarchical system. […] We weren’t mirroring the racist papal bulls. It was the papal bulls that said we can have rights. But Indigenous rights, that doesn’t exist. Indigenous responsibilities exist. Anarchist’s responsibilities exist. How do we communicate those?

“It might feel out of place for you to ask permission to exist somewhere, but what you’re saying is, can I bring my knowledge, with yours, together, to share in the responsibilities in your lands? Because the people here have thousands and thousands of years of observation of how to exist with the land and with the biodiversity, and how to have a relationship with the water. We don’t own the water, we can’t put our name on it. […] We don’t own the land. We own our responsibilities to the land and to the water. That’s how I relate anarchy and Indigenous societies. We transcend rights, each of us.”