80

 On feeling power(full/less)


During our recent seminar on bringing sustainability into being via our actions and practices, both individual and collective, we (my fellow humans and I) were discussing clothing and our relationships to and with it. One of those fellow humans mentioned how clothing makes them feel powerful in different situation, such as a classroom. Dressing formally and using makeup gives them confidence to walk into a classroom. While this person was sharing their experiences, I was contemplating my own relationship with power, clothing, and classrooms (and other similar spaces).
Since I started teaching, an important part of my practice has been to wear in a classroom exactly the same clothes I wear in my everyday life. Sandals, oversized shirts that have not been ironed, sweatpants, large scarves. Perhaps I am lucky that I've been teaching mostly in the Nordics, but this practice is so important to me that I would not choose to be in a space where I would be forced to change my mode of being. I've made several entries on my relationship with clothes in these autoethnographic notes. Via having a minimalist wardrobe, wearing almost only beige, wearing the same thing every day, I want to normalise comfort, deviation from following trends and avoiding overconsumption. There are of course more ethical and responsible ways to shop (such as second hand) but personally I don't welcome eco-consumerism. When I teach post-growth, I use my relationship with clothing as an example of a small-scale, deeply personal action. 
Coming from an anarchist perspective, my relationship with my students is always non-hierarchical. I explicitly say it to my students that I am an anarchist, and that they should use their freedom in the classroom. Power is definitely not something I want to have over my students in any way. In fact, I don't want to feel powerful in a classroom. I want to empower my students with knowledge and tools to become agents of change and to grow as human beings. So via my clothing I only want to communicate comfort. It doesn't mean feeling power-less, rather simply relaxed and calm. Most of the students I've met here in the Nordics wear casual clothing. Wearing something formal would create division which I do not want. So far, I have not faced any judgment from my students in terms of what I wear. At times some have commented on my alternative teaching methods, feeling good in the classroom, and inclusion. 

79

 Being with trees and work-life entanglement 


During one of my recent visits at a medical professional's office, I was asked about my work-life balance, how much I work, and things that I do after work. Academic work is creative, so 9-to-5 doesn't work for me. Moreover, because I research a more sustainable mode of dwelling on the planet and try to manifest it at the same time, there is no balance, but rather there is deep entanglement. There are colleagues I think together with. There are also non-humans, such as the trees in the picture above, who inspire me and in whose presence I contemplate things.  

78

 Hand washing again and new beings in my space

When I lived in England, I used to buy Marseille soap. I was glad to find it here in Finland too, to use for washing my clothes and other textiles by hand, to wash the dishes, and also for my skincare. This soap is unscented, but it has a characteristic, clean and somehow also earthy and comforting natural smell. I prefer using soap for washing my clothes. It works better than a detergent. It seems to wash out easier than a detergent, creates less lather than a detergent, and doesn't dry out my hands. Soapy water also looks incredibly beautiful, like a moonstone. 

Recently a fellow human visited me and brought two beings into my space. I'm very grateful for them. When I lived in Sweden, I had some plants but I had to find people who would adopt them because I couldn't take them to Finland with me. I avoid buying plants. Too often they are seen as decorations rather than fellow beings one needs to care for and rehome if caring for them becomes impossible. When I was based in Sweden, I went to conferences rather often. These days I avoid conferences and prefer to stay in my local area, so I will be able to take care of these plants. 

77

 Sustainable living and illness

For an upcoming seminar that some colleagues and I are organising, I've been reflecting on bringing sustainability into being via one's own practices. In relation to my own life, I identify causality in my mode of relation with the world, the universe and everything it includes, and perhaps also to some extent how my childhood unfolded. I often hear from others contemplating my mode of living something along these lines, "I'm trying to live sustainably but I don't take it as far as you do". 

Many of my practices that appear sustainable and transformative began far earlier than I started researching sustainability. Such practices include, for example, preferring natural materials, eating simple whole foods, avoiding perfumes, candles, makeup, conventional skincare, and so on. I live with an autoimmune skin condition which makes my skin react, sometimes severely, to many things such as fragrances and human-made fabrics. Such reactions manifest, for instance, via rashes and unpleasant sensations. In other words, I began avoiding polyester clothing and other textiles not because I learned about microplastics in my childhood, but rather because polyester causes extremely unpleasant sensation and feels like my skin is suffocating under a layer of plastic. Dust accumulated in the furniture, candles and other scents, all of them cause long-lasting headaches. 

In addition to that, high sensory processing sensitivity (which is not an illness as opposed to the skin condition I mentioned above) generally results in aversion towards busy environments, so there are many services and social spaces that I avoid. This naturally led to a simpler lifestyle, an uncluttered personal space, less consumption than what is normal in this society, and my preference towards spending time with non-humans. For these reasons, I do not believe that there is one mode of sustainable living. For some, fragrances are pleasant and comforting, polyester fabrics feel silky, and furniture-free spaces feel empty. Moreover, there are different mechanisms that bring about one's "sustainable" mode of living. 

76

 Being with the sea in the morning


This morning, as always, I woke up with the sun. Because I don't have curtains and don't ever close the blinds, and because my windows face the North-East, I wake up when the sun rises. These days have been very sunny and I've often felt an overwhelming desire to be outside with the trees, the sun, and the sea. When I came back home, I made tea. Because I don't have a kettle, I use a simple cooking pot to boil water. The sound of water beginning to boil in a pot appears less violent. It takes perhaps a little longer, but making tea and coffee is a beautiful and calming activity. 

75

"Sufficiency list"


I do not believe that there is a perfect number of objects one can live with. To equate minimalism or voluntary simplicity with living with a certain number of items is reductionist and not useful. Of course one can, in a playful manner, ask oneself, could I live with under 50 items, 100 items? But it perhaps should be a tool for reflection used with a sense of curiosity and with a desire to learn about oneself, rather than something to strive for, because that number depends on many factors. For example, I don't have kids, pets, or plants. My hobbies do not require any additional items. I've never felt drawn to decorations or the need to keep sentimental items. I prefer a minimalist aesthetic and calming colours. I don't like furniture. At the same time, I live in a cold climate. 
A "sufficiency list" was an experiment I started around 2016, where many things coincided. At that time I wanted to understand my own consumption pattern better while I was researching businesses on sustainability paths. I began to wonder what consumption of individuals should look like for such businesses to exist. And while my own consumption does not provide a blueprint for anyone, and is not representative of consumption in materially wealthy Nordic countries, autoethnography is a beautiful method; hardly any other method provides this depth of insight, including insight into challenges and struggles. There was also a very pragmatic reason for the list: when I travelled, I wanted to contemplate what I actually needed. Since I would travel by train, it seemed (and was) best to take as little as possible with me. 
The list has expanded and contracted over time, but it hasn't changed much at all. What made me think again about the list were two things. I received some news about my article which reports this list, it will be published soon. And recently I also finished some personal care items (three natural ointments I got in Sweden and Finland) and decided not to replace them because in this climate my skin does not get as dry as it used to become in northern Sweden, and in summers my skin doesn't require much support at all. 
The sufficiency list from my article (true as of August 2022): laptop, phone, headphones, passport and other documents, notebook, pen, shoes, backpack, bank card, personal care items, towels, sweatshirts/t-shirts, trousers/shorts, bowl, fork, spoon, knife, stockpot, dish brush, tote bag, jacket, handkerchief, scissors, blanket, lunch box, mug, scarf, mittens. 
Since then, I gave away the blanket and the lunch box to someone who wanted them. Some of those things don't belong to me. The headphones belong to the university, so does the notebook and the pen. Bowls, forks, spoons, and the knife I borrowed from a friend. I gave away the mug I had in Sweden and bought a water bottle and got a mug as a gift from my Swedish colleague. 

74

Drying my hemp scarf 


After some days of wearing this scarf almost every day for various reasons (sometimes because it's cold, at other times to separate myself from a busy environment, or to protect my hair from intense sunlight), I decided to wash it. I hand-washed it in cold water. After that, it became even more beautiful. It developed wrinkles and finally doesn't look new. To dry it, I attached a string from an old piece of clothing to some shelves. I don't use those shelves for anything else, and would have removed them if the apartment belonged to me. 
In the picture above one can see sunrays entering my apartment in the morning. During these very sunny days, I went out often in the morning to say hello to the sun and the sea, and in the evening to see these pine trees on the Western side of the island:



73

 Love

Recently some fellow humans and I were joking about the small rock I brought with me from Sweden. It would of course be more pragmatic to bring a knife or a plate with me rather than a stone, but my reason was that I could borrow a knife and a plate from a friend here in Finland but nothing could replace that particular piece of Sweden for me. 

It's my most treasured thing-I-live-with, the only decoration I have in my office, and something I would take with me if I moved again. It's so valuable to me spiritually that it feels uncomfortable to call it a thing. It represents a beautiful place I felt connected with, and it allows me to connect with that place again. Apart from that, it's a natural and local object, I simply picked it by the water in Ångermanland in northern Sweden. We were discussing my love towards this object and that I am so committed to it that I should have a wedding ceremony and marry this rock. We were discussing my wedding outfit, contemplated how I could get it, who would be invited and who would perform various roles such as carrying the rock. It was a light-hearted moment of connecting with those fellow humans. While it may sound unserious and strange, it's not even the first time someone is assigning a typically human role to a non-human being, consider for example Arne Naess and him seeing a mountain as his father. 

However, that made me think about love more generally. Love is actually part of a framework for a degrowth society that my colleague and I conceptualised. We didn't specifically refer to romantic love, but rather love towards the universe which includes the self, others (humans and non-humans), becoming, and the life force. In my life this feeling, since my childhood, has generally featured more prominently than love towards any particular individual. It feels like unconditional love which one experiences but also receives from existence, and more immediately from the planet and the sun, in the form of safety, security, comfort, and abundance. For this reason, separating from my partner was not too difficult, and watching a video of a rocket launched into the space feels like a horrific violation.  

72

 Imperfections

Being of deep transformations is a process, and it's imperfect. Practices associated with it are rarely fully sustainable. I don't think it's a secret to anyone what an almost perfectly sustainable life and consumption pattern would look like, in theory. Living off the grid, fully self-sufficiently, in a self-built house made from local, natural materials, wearing only second-hand clothing, etc. My life doesn't look like this. I live in a city, in a rented apartment that I rent from a for-profit company, the energy I use comes from a mix of sources, I use conventional banking, high technology, buy food in a supermarket, use public transport, work for a university. My practice of extreme minimalism (living with radically less than what is the norm in a materially wealthy Nordic country) is the way I chose to dwell in the world in a more mindful, intentional and ecological way. For instance, while the energy I use comes from a mix of sources, I try to use as little of it as possible. When I shop in a supermarket, I try to choose local, organic, unpackaged products. 

There are many ways in which I still could improve my mode of being. However, I don't know how long I'm going to stay in Finland for, and it's very difficult to commit to something like a plot of land in this situation of uncertainty. Yet, even small everyday actions are imperfect, and that's ok. I notice that I learn a lot while contemplating imperfections and feel empathy towards others' sustainability journeys. Some imperfections I embrace and celebrate:

Cracks in the dishes and cups. I find them beautiful. 

Wrinkles, small holes and stains in clothes and other textiles. Just like small cracks in the dishes, these imperfections hold stories and are parts of an item's life. In my view, they are not something to correct and not reasons for replacing items with new ones. 

Imperfect fruits and vegetables. They are often very beautiful. 

Diet. I try to choose whole foods most of the time. At times, however, I get a kanelbulle or chocolate. 

Coffee. It's not the most sustainable drink. The most sustainable one is perhaps water. Here in Finland one can drink tap water, and it is delicious. There are herbs such as Finnish mint, lemon balm, nettles that can be used to make tea. Yet, coffee is an institution (consider fika), a ritual. Oftentimes I have fika with the sun. 

Plastic. Sometimes I buy products wrapped in plastic. At times there is a choice, e.g., to buy something local or organic wrapped in plastic or unpackaged and imported. All the medicines I take come with plastic packaging. 

Hairstyle. My hair is growing out in its own way. I never style it and don't visit hair salons. 

My home. I understand what could make my home look and feel more welcoming, for instance, to my guests, but I practise furniture-free living. 

Use of water. Taking very short showers is better for sustainability and for my autoimmune skin condition. At times, I take a few extra minutes because apart from walking and caring for the items I live with, it's one thing that feels healing and grounding.

Weather. Since I wear the same items throughout the year, at times when it's very windy I feel cold. It's not uncomfortable or unsafe, but rather I am aware of the lower temperature. My wardrobe is not "perfect" for different seasons, but it allows me to celebrate changes and rhythms of nature.

Technology. While I decided not to invite many common items that use electricity into my space (such as a vacuum cleaner, a toaster, a kettle, etc.), I have two phones and two laptops because of my work. It would have been better to just have one of each. 

Travel. I avoid flying and prefer to stay in my local region. However, at times I go somewhere else in the Nordics, usually for work. Such journeys are not completely necessary. For instance, interviews for my research can be done online, but technologically mediated communication does not feel the same. 

Upon reflecting further, I think most of my practices are imperfect. In some domains, from a sustainability perspective, I am happy with my path. For instance, I have always been very happy with my decision not to own a car. In terms of housing, while the size of my home (it's very small) and its location (close to the sea) are good, the ownership (it's owned by a for-profit company) is something I am less happy with. In terms of food, I would have preferred to have access to independent zero waste stores. 

70

 Hair tie

It feels strange to write a note about a hair tie, but it also feels important. Oftentimes, people note that things like stainless steel straws will not stop ecological degradation, that we need change in our socio-economic system rather than small scale actions. I believe it is both, and often it is small actions that bring about change in systems. These small actions are manifestations of complex mindsets, philosophies, and our ways of relating with the world. I've been growing out my hair for more than a year and I wanted to get a hair tie. Most of them are sold in packs of many, and I don't need many of them. Some people find them on the ground, wash them and use them. I simply asked my fellow human at work if she had a spare hair tie. She mentioned she has many and is happy to share. 

69

 Things etc. I would rather not live with


In my previous entry, I sketched a list of objects I chose to forego for ecological, aesthetic, and spiritual reasons. Below are some objects (and not objects) I live with, but I'd rather not. 

medicines. Many of them come in plastic packaging. Medicines are a necessity rather than something I enjoy sharing my life with. 
rent. When I moved to Finland, I was offered an (subsidised) apartment near the university. It was a good option since it belonged to the university (rather than a for-profit company), and rent was cheaper than what I pay for my current apartment. The issue with it was the size, it was simply too big for my needs. 
storage spaces. Apart from the fact that the apartment is owned by a for-profit company, I like the rented apartment where I live. The location is serene, and the size is good for my needs. However, this apartment has a lot of storage space, both in the apartment, in the kitchen area, and downstairs. For someone with a more "normal" amount of possessions, having storage spaces in a small studio flat is helpful, but for me it's unnecessary. 
devices. The apartment came with multiple devices such as an oven, a fridge-freezer, a dishwasher, a smart home system. I would not have chosen to have any of them.
work phone and laptop. I live with two phones and two laptops due to my work.
documents. While some documents can be digitalised, others can't be, and it feels bureaucratic. For instance, I have identification documents from three countries: the UK, Sweden and Finland. 
human-made fabrics. I had developed an aversion to fabrics such as polyester long before I stepped on an ecological and spiritual path of being in the world differently. This is due to my health condition: my skin often reacts negatively to human-made fabrics. When I lived in England, I could wear relatively light clothing all year round. A light jacket made from wool or even cotton would suffice. However, living in Sweden and Finland necessitates warmer clothes. Both my jacket and the vest are made from polyester. They keep me warm, though I don't like the material they are made from.
plastic packaging and objects. I don't think that it's absolutely impossible to live almost without plastic in a city like Helsinki. Here one can find almost anything or order online. However, living almost without plastic is time-consuming, it requires looking for specific things. Whenever I can, I go for a plastic free option, but sometimes I still buy products in plastic packaging, such as a dishwashing liquid. 
insecurity. Insecure, short-term academic contracts are problematic. Many humans in my position try to save some money in case they become unemployed after their contract runs out or have to move to another country. For instance, as a British citizen, I cannot stay here in Finland after my contract runs out. If one's contract is permanent, one would feel more comfortable making different choices, such as owning a home rather than renting, having children, having plants, adopting a pet. 
extra items. When a fellow human visited me, I had to acquire a few extra items. The visit was spontaneous and I didn't have time to contact my friends to ask if I could borrow some objects from them. While I will keep the objects I acquired in case someone visits me again, ideally such objects should be shared rather than owned by each individual or household. 
upgrading tech. Usually my devices (laptop and smartphone) last around 5 years. After that time, they don't stop working but rather they cannot handle all the apps I need to run, or some apps stop working on them. 
supermarkets as the only convenient option. Like many others, I buy food in a supermarket. This is not because I believe that supermarkets are the best option, but it's the most convenient one. I work full time, and living an almost perfect ecological life is extremely time-consuming. I wish there were more independent zero-waste shops in my area. 

68

 Things I chose not to invite into my life


There are things and whole categories of objects that I chose to forego for ecological, aesthetic, and spiritual reasons, most of the time all of these reasons at once. Oftentimes my friends, colleagues, and students ask me "but do you have x, y, z?" And often my answer is no. These objects are rather normal, i.e., it's not unusual to own them in this society. Of course this list could be very long, since there are so many objects, but the one below captures something about this mode of being nevertheless. 

car
bicycle 
tv 
washing machine/dryer
vacuum cleaner (and many other common items such as a toaster, an iron, a kettle, a hairdryer etc.)
makeup, nail polish, hair styling products 
handbags. I live with a backpack and several cotton bags that I use as handbags and for grocery shopping. 
dresses and skirts (or any occasion clothes or very formal clothes and shoes). I dislike wearing tailored items, and since I walk everywhere and it's often windy where I live (by the sea), trousers and shorts are more suitable. I refuse to wear any formal clothes, to normalise comfortable ones in more formal spaces such as classrooms, various events, and conferences. 
furniture
decorations, seasonal decorations, artworks
photographs, pictures
sentimental items (apart from one Finnish markka and a stone from Sweden). All my sentimental "items" are in my mind as stories.
inherited items
jewellery and watches. All of them were gifts, and I gave them all away a long time ago. 
colourful items. Almost everything I live with is beige or grey. My friends joke about it, but for me these are the most calming colours. I've always liked them very much. 
clothes with patterns or decorative elements. Somehow I've never liked patterns or elements that don't serve a purpose (such as fringes or frills). 
clothes made from wool. I also avoid synthetic fabrics as much as possible. 
sports clothes. Most of them are made from synthetic materials which I avoid due to my skin condition. When I go jogging, I simply wear my casual cotton clothes. 
seasonal clothes and shoes. Most of my clothes I can wear throughout the year. In winters I wear my sandals at home or in the office. Despite living in a Nordic country, I don't own warm jackets, I just wear layers, e.g., a thin jacket, a vest and a big scarf. This worked for me even in northern Sweden where it is colder than here in southern Finland. 
bras. I believe that not wearing a bra should be normalised. 
hat. In winter I wear a scarf over my head.
perfumes and scents for my home
candles (or any other light fittings apart from the ones that came with the kitchen in the rented apartment. They provide more than enough light for the whole studio apartment). 
curtains
specialised skincare
books
essential oils. I used to have several to use instead of human-made scents but then I couldn't justify owning something that requires so much raw material just for a few drops of the finished product.
"just in case" items, medicines, etc. This includes multiple kitchen items, devices and equipment. For instance, if a few friends want to have wine at my place, some would use coffee cups, and it's ok.
personal tech apart from my phone and laptop. I don't have a camera, e-book reader etc. 
phone accessories. I dropped my phone in Denmark, and the screen is damaged, but this happened only once in many years of my life with a phone.
umbrella (or any other clothes, shoes and equipment to protect me from the rain). I used to have an umbrella when I lived in England. The umbrella was useless there, since most of the time when it rained, it was also very windy. I gave my umbrella away. In northern Sweden it didn't rain as much, and here in southern Finland it does. Owning an umbrella was something I considered normal or a given in a rainy climate. However, later on in my life I realised that it's not a necessity. I also realised that I actually enjoy rain a lot. Since I don't wear makeup and don't style my hair, I embrace rain. The only thing I actually needed was a sleeve for my laptop as it's the only item that would not appreciate the rain. 
hobby items. I came to terms with the fact that my hobbies simply don't require any additional equipment or objects. 

67

Inviting a new object into my space

I enjoy living with very few items and rarely invite new objects into my space and my life. These days have been very sunny, and for me +10 degrees on a sunny day it a good temperature to start wearing shorts, sandals, a vest, and spending more time with the sun. To protect my hair and shoulders from intense sunlight, I finally welcomed a new scarf. The other two scarves that I have are made from wool, and I put them away in the end of winter to make them last longer. This scarf is made from hemp and cotton. It's taken a while, a few years in fact, to find a simple beige scarf, perhaps because I wasn't intentionally looking for it. To me it was important that this object is made from natural materials and looks as simple as possible. It is also important that I can handwash it. I am curious about the ageing process of this fabric. At times, when I have a psychological need for more solitude in situations where there are many people, such as a university or a train, I wear a large scarf over my head, shoulders and arms. Somehow, this feels calming. 

66

 1.5 months without a washing machine

Previously, the longest time I lived without a washing machine was around 1 month when the old one approached the end of its life, and I decided to give myself a gift of living without one. This time I decided to give myself the same gift again when I moved into my new (rented) apartment. I was going to invite a washing machine into my life eventually, but now it's been 1.5 months and I enjoy living without one. A washing machine was one of those devices I thought I definitely needed even if I could live without an iron, a toaster, a kettle, a car, a dishwasher and so on. However, caring for my clothes and textiles myself feels liberating. I do not consider those activities to be a waste of time or inefficient. Those are some of my most favourite moments when I can feel grounded and honour the objects that I share my life with. For the same reason I wash my dishes by hand even though there is a dishwasher in this flat, or I clean the floor by hand even though I could acquire a device for this purpose. Perhaps I would acquire a washing machine if I had a family or children or a larger wardrobe. But I live on my own and have a minimalist wardrobe. When I wash my clothes and textiles by hand, the fabrics look great, and handwashing appears to remove all the detergent from the fabrics well. I also feel more comfortable about washing only one or two items if I want. One downside of not owning a washing machine is my skin condition which at times manifests on my hands. In this situation I would probably ask my friends if I could use their washing machine. 

65

 Sandals and beige

On many occasions, I have borrowed items of clothing (usually warm jackets and sweaters) from friends. However, I avoid borrowing clothing to alter my style, to dress up for various occasions. I also avoid renting clothing and second-hand shopping. Even though renting may be a better, more ecological practice, and shopping second-hand is ecological, there are several reasons why I don't participate in these practices. One reason is the size of my wardrobe. I live with only a few items of clothing, and it's helpful when everything comes from the same colour family and thus can be washed at the same time, and when everything has an aesthetic I prefer. If you practise extreme minimalism (rather than e.g. a frugal mode of living), it is easy to sustain it when you live with objects that satisfy your preferences, principles, and needs (also for beauty). For example, I prefer natural materials, simple cuts, calming colours. I care about where and how my clothes are made and how long they will last. Looking for objects that satisfy all the characteristics in second-hand stores (including online) would take time and energy, and I very much dislike shopping. Moreover, I don't want to change my outfits often. Instead, I prefer to participate in normalisation of wearing the same few items of clothing, and normalisation of casual clothing everywhere. For instance, attending one's PhD defence in sandals should be absolutely normal. I avoid renting clothing for the same reason: to normalise casual, everyday clothing everywhere. 

Overall, my aim is to avoid eco-consumerism. While it may be addressing the ecological part of consumption, it reproduces consumerism. 

64

 Being with the sun and taking longer walks


After a long winter here in the Nordics it is awe-inspiring to welcome sunlight. I try to be with the sun often. My office windows receive sunlight in afternoons and evenings, and at home I enjoy my favourite morning sunlight. I prefer to start my workday at home, with the sun, tea or coffee, and emails. As it's getting warmer and lighter, I take a longer path to work and wear sandals to connect with the still somewhat cool air and the wind coming from the sea. At times I stop to spend time with the sea. 


63

 Stones as decorations


To celebrate spring and local nature, I invited a couple more stones from the edge of the island where I live to my home. At some point I plan to return them to nature, but these days I feel awe every time I see them in the gentle morning sunlight. The stone I brought from northern Sweden is the only decoration I have in my office, though it is much more than a decoration. It connects me with the place where I was. 


These stones in the picture above come from this place:

62

 Wrinkles in fabrics

I wash all the textiles I live with by hand, and squeezing excess water results in wrinkling of the fabric. I leave these wrinkles be. I don't own an iron. It uses electricity, and I prefer the look of unironed clothes, cotton bags and so on. To me, these wrinkles look organic, imperfect in a beautiful way, and overall aesthetically pleasing. 

61

 Weekend

Sharing beautiful moments with a fellow human and local non-humans.


Cleaning and enjoying coffee with the sun.

60

 Transformative practices at work


Here in the Nordics (at least in Sweden and Finland) it is challenging to find healthy, unpackaged food in smaller supermarkets. In the past couple of days my fellow human, with whom I share an office, and I have gone to a nearby supermarket to get some unpackaged oranges, apples and bananas when we were at work. Of course these fruits are not local, but at least they came without any plastic. Both of us try to nurture the feeling of oneness with nature, and we discuss how we can manifest this in our practices in the office. 

59

 Jord i matlådan 


Today my fellow human who shares an office with me brought some soil for our office plant in a food container. It made me think about multiple uses of items we live with, and not seeing soil as something "dirty". 

She also brought a cutting of a plant so we don't have to buy one from a store. Both of us have reservations about buying plants because we see them as our fellow beings. 

58

 Fika with the sun


Our relationships with non-human beings are underemphasised. From the age of 5-6 and until I was in my mid-teens I lived in an area with very few humans in proximity. It was important for me to nurture connections with non-human beings, to develop trust in them and respect towards them. This led me to question the notion of being alone. One is always in the world with others, humans and non-humans. Sometimes I use expressions such as "on my own", "by myself" and "alone" when I'm not with other humans, but I don't think these expressions capture the sense of community that is retained even in such situations. In fact, they obscure the presence of non-human others. Earlier in my life I felt that it would sound strange if I decline an invitation to some event because I wanted to spend time with the sea, the sun, the trees. These days, I feel more comfortable saying exactly these things. Reactions are of course diverse. Some interpret this as a need for some alone time, others find it odd. Yet others deeply relate to this feeling. After a week of meetings, I came to the empty office to write and have fika with the sun.