It has been a very quiet period here at The Immaterialist, because I have been busy finishing the last chapter of my upcoming book with the title Anti-trend–Resilient Design and the Art of Sustainable Living. However, now I am done: the writing process has ended, beautiful photos have been obtained, the manuscript has been sent off to my great new publisher, and a good friend has created the most beautiful illustration for the cover (I can’t wait to share it all!) – and now the proofreading, editing and layout phase has begun. The book will be published around June. Much more hereon later.
My new writing project revolves around rewilding and connectivity, and is inspired by my youngest son and his very intriguing statements on human life, nature and interconnectivity.
I want to share my introduction to the project:
“My youngest son has an inherent sense of connectedness with his natural surroundings. He lives, navigates and learns this way. He moves and acts with a certainty that I envy: he seems convinced that we are an integrated part of nature, that human beings and nature are interconnected, and that talking about humans and nature as being separate doesn’t make any sense at all. He will say: “what we breathe out the trees need to breathe in, and what the trees breathe out we need to breathe in”, or “those fluffy clouds you see right there, mum, are there because a new baby was just born”, or “today the waves are really big because a lot of people died”. Such statements are made with a confidence that usually leaves me speechless. They are so natural and such an incorporated part of his being that he doesn’t think much of them; it is just the way things are. He will walk barefooted whenever possible (which to him means most of the time); he despises shoes; “when I wear them, I can’t feel anything”, he says. He often talks of his spirit-animal, which he says is the eagle. He says that he can always feel when an eagle is close by, which he has demonstrated on several occasions by suddenly saying “look” and pointing up, and sure enough an eagle is majestically floating around above us. My biggest fear is that he, like I did, will unlearn these truths and inherent sensations as a part of his “cultivation” and his education. Because I, unlike him, don’t feel particularly connected to a specific animal, and I, unlike him, have forgotten the feeling of being completely safe in wild nature.”
I look forward to sharing more on this project, as it progresses. Currently I am engaged in research on indigenous wisdom and wildschooling.