I suppose where I am now is to think about personhood in compositional terms. By this I mean that personhood derives from an accretion of form, and maybe also complexity and function, to the point that is acquires an 'anima'. Anything can have an anima, or spirit, which I use in an Aristotelian rather than Christian sense, although the two versions of the concept are obviously similar and related. A stone can have an anima, and while the process that made it probably occurred long ago and at a great distance (deep underground, beneath the sea, in a river bed, on a mountain top, on a windswept plain . . . ), it must be perceived at least intuitively, if not seen directly and understood explicitly. But I think maybe an understanding of the composition of a thing is not necessary for an observer to imbue it with a spirit and thereby confer personhood upon it. Only an appreciation for its composition, and not necessarily the process by which a thing was composed, so therefore an appreciation for its form, is needed. And I am not sure that even discretion, in material terms, perhaps delineation is a better word, is required. After all, what is a sky god if not a person? And what could be less bounded than the sky? Or a god? Or, walking it back, a person?
How easy and obvious is the leap from here to the idea of the personhood of plants, then, with their opening and closing flowers, their creeping roots, and other manifestations of spirit, and agenda?
How easy and obvious is the leap from here to the idea of the personhood of plants, then, with their opening and closing flowers, their creeping roots, and other manifestations of spirit, and agenda?
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