jane_goodall ovenbird April 3, 1934 - October 1, 2025 If ever there was a person in this world who demonstrated the soul’s capacity for fiery compassion and relentless love it was Jane Goodall. I remember learning about her first from my sixth grade teacher who was, herself, a passionate environmentalist. At ten years old I learned of Jane’s dedication to studying the chimpanzees of Gombe, Tanzania. Despite being admonished for doing so she gave the chimps names, recognizing that they had distinct personalities. She was torn to shreds in academia for “anthropomorphizing” the animals she studied and I loved her for her insistence that it is not wrong to ascribe rich emotional and psychological lives to animals. In a recent video Jane is seen describing the work done by bomb sniffing rats and she refers to the rodent in her arms as a “person.” There is so much tied into that one radical act of naming. She saw the extraordinary value in small, overlooked lives. She saw the individual hearts of each animal she encountered. She saw their personhood and this conviction fueled decades of advocacy on behalf of animals not given a chance to speak for themselves. She was still touring in the days before she died. Her curiosity, quiet empathy, and desire to connect deeply with the natural world has inspired me all my life. When living at a graduate college perched on the eroding cliffs of the west coast I would go out in the fall to visit the “mushroom people” living under a monkey puzzle tree in the central yard. I loved the way the flashy amanita_muscaria would pop up overnight, like a convention or a family reunion, all with their red and white caps on. I think Jane would have approved of my inclination to treat the annual fly_agaric emergence as a meeting of minds. My own mind looks different from the mycelial networks that spread for miles underground but it doesn’t mean that the fungal systems are any less wondrous. Jane gave me permission to see the soul of the world and I hope I can pass it on. My daughter laughs when I try to get her down on the ground to inspect moss or lichen with a hand lens, but I hope she’ll come to know the heart that beats at the core of everything, and find within herself the resilience that comes from cultivating a robust and powerful hope for the future of this ailing planet and every bright soul that calls it home. 251001 ... raze this is such a beautiful and moving tribute to a remarkable human being. years ago, my dad had tickets to see her live. it wasn't a simple speaking engagement. there was a group dinner after the talk, and then each person in attendance would be allowed the privilege of a private conversation with her. the plan was to take his then-girlfriend with him. she wasn't interested. one of the great regrets of my life is that i didn't go in her stead. my memory is fuzzy, but my best guess is that the debilitating sleep problems i was grappling with at the time made it impossible. i'm sure those tickets are still around somewhere. they were never used. though i didn't get the chance to meet her, i think in some ways jane goodall helped give me permission to be who i am now. the miracle of her existence made me feel that i could to lean into my love of what's wild without shame. i'll never forget the story she told of the chimpanzee flo. when she died, her eldest child kept returning to her body and manipulating her hand with his own so he could imagine she was comforting him. he climbed a tree and looked down at a nest where he and his mother had slept together. he returned to that place where he'd last known happiness, curled up in a ball, and died of a broken heart. "i went to africa as a scientist," she said. "i left the jungle as an activist." there's a lot less light in the world now that she's not in it anymore. 251001 what's it to you? who go blather from