Longing for Nature
Two years ago, I saw an exhibition in Paris called "Home", where 16 Magnum photographers were invited to reflect on what home means to them. Alex Majoli's work was about a hot, Sicilian summer and pictured watermelon seeds, sunburned skin and the cheap car sunshields I remember from my childhood in Bulgaria. “Sicily reminds me what the essence of life is,” says Majoli. For me, summers in Bulgaria also remind me of the joy of simple things: huge home-grown tomatoes, days spent reading on beach where my parents grew up, dancing barefoot at night, my shoulders still covered in sand.
Many people around me are talking about how much they miss nature, the sea, their simple summer holidays. I find myself daydreaming while scrolling though my friend James Widegren's feed which encapsulates the feeling and aesthetic of a that dreamy Mediterranean vacation. But what is it that we are really longing for, exactly? The insouciance of summer days which can't really exist in a global pandemic? The freedom of travel? The memory of simple pleasures when simplicity was a real choice and not something afflicted on the entire human population? Or perhaps the grandeur of the natural world, which poet Mary Oliver captures so beautifully in her poem “I Go Down to the Shore”:
I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall —
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.
In my community work, it strikes me how much of the language is borrowed from the natural world. We build "ecosystems", we "grow" and "nurture" groups, we take part in "grassroots" movements. As someone who spends most of my time thinking about the power of the human systems we design in our personal and professional lives, I'm fascinated by the complexity and beauty of natural systems. As I'm preparing a talk for CreativeMornings Sofia on Friday, I'm thinking a little deeper about what natural systems can teach us about living with strength, vulnerability, and grace during these challenging times.
Correlations
I've wanted to have a section featuring voice notes in the newsletter and finally figured out how to add them! If you click on the image above, you can listen to a few seconds of my friend Cedric saying how he's planning his "Great Escape" to the sea.
I love how this poem by Heather Christie captures the ineffable familiarity of the sea:
The sea nips at us from a great distance
like a postcard from someone
who calls himself your uncle
and meanwhile think of all the time I’ve wasted
rhyming vacuum with perfume
in search of a new feeling.
By now you know that words and poetry are important to me... This week I've been thinking about how powerfully the words we use can create a sense of connection. It reminded me of a line from Mary Oliver's "A Poetry Handbook": “Poetry is a life-cherishing force. And it requires a vision — a faith, to use an old-fashioned term. Yes, indeed. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes, indeed.”
Celebrations
More books announced! My friend Niran Vinod just announced his first book, "How to Build it", on building successful brands. I love this new "How to" series aiming to break down knowledge barriers and inspire the next generation. The one on writing is by poet Anthony Anaxagorou who is one of the best poets I've seen live.
The world lost a thinker who has been instrumental in the global community narrative - Rodrigo Niño, the founder of coworking space The Assemblage. His personal story is extraordinary.
Natalie Copuroglu has been swearing by these active meditation sessions called "Suco Sessions". The collective has been giving back by planting trees, so I'm even more curious to try them.
Contemplations
I learned that a "desire path" is the name for a path created as a consequence of erosion caused by human or animal foot traffic. I've had three picnics this week and I like to think about them as behavioural "desire paths" - in what ways can we still create moments of joy and adventure while still respecting social distancing rules? What does this mean for events and gatherings? I saw that friend attended this first event in months: a socially-distanced fundraising concert hosted at architect John Young's home.
For Mental Health Awareness Week, Made of Millions Foundation released one of the best campaigns I've ever seen.
Conversations
Questions communities around me are exploring this week:
What are small moments of normalcy you are experiencing at the moment?
What is our individual and collective legacy of the pandemic?
Community practitioners are "story listeners" before being storytellers.
This is all for today! Have a sunny week and keep sharing your ideas and reflexions - I'm loving what's emerging!
Vx