153

 Skincare

When I go to Denmark, I will only take these skincare items with me: rosehip oil, lavender essential oil, lip balm, multipurpose balm, and a natural deo. Apart from these products, I use a natural shampoo and soap bars, but as I'm running out of them, I decided to repurchase them either in Denmark or in Sweden on my way to Copenhagen. 

I used to have more skincare items. In northern Sweden the air was very dry, so I used more skincare. Since I moved to Finland, I struggled with my health a lot, and it was reflected in my skin too. Though all the products (apart from some prescription ones) were natural, I still felt that it was too much rather than lagom. 

I prefer not to have a routine and listen to my skin's needs instead. They are different in winter and in summer. And, I've also noticed that the best skincare items are not something I can buy, but rather they are the feeling of serenity, fresh air, sleep, and minimally processed food. 

152

 Giving

I decided to give away almost everything that I live with here in Finland. I will be based in Denmark for some time, and there I will borrow everything that I need for a simple and comfortable life. 

This evening a friend of mine who is a sufficiency researcher came to see me. She lives in an eco-community and will provide a new home to most of my items. Some of the items, such as clothing and documents, I will take with me, and others, such as the plate and the bowl in the picture above, I will return to another friend. 

As a gift, she brought me some beautiful apples and a courgette from her garden. Food is such a wonderful gift. 

151

 Everything I'm taking with me

This is almost everything I am taking with me to Denmark. Since I will return to Finland, I will leave a couple of items here, such as my watercolour paper, a cotton tote and perhaps a sweatshirt and a scarf. I don't have any furniture, large electronic items, or decorations.

It is hard for me to refer to these items as the ones I "own". I prefer to say that I live with them. Many items I live with are not even mine. The kitchen items were borrowed. The t-shirts I wear often belong to my partner.

So I'm taking with me two linen shirts, two pairs of sweatpants, one pair of shorts, two vest tops, two backpacks, my laptop and my phone with their chargers, a hair tie, a bag with underwear and socks, two cotton tote bags, two scarves, and a bag with three stones (from Sweden, Finland, and Denmark). Perhaps I will take the tote bag that I used to bring all my items to Finland from Sweden. I will also bring the documents and my water bottle which is currently in my office, and a toiletries bag with basic toiletries and medicines. The yoga mat I used to sleep on, and I'm not sure if I give it away or take it with me this or next time. 

When I reflect on all this, I realise that the most important items are not in the picture. They are love, awe, gratitude, hope, growth, and other self-transcending feelings, emotions, and pursuits. 

150

 Sufficiency list revisited

When I go somewhere for a while, or move, I come back to my sufficiency list. This playful list was originally on a piece of paper and in my notes in my phone. Now it's in my mind and also in my academic paper. This is the sufficiency list from my paper: "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. True as of August 2022". 

The list is largely the same now in August 2023, but there are some changes. I digitalised some documents, so now there are less of them in the paper form. I decided not to use a notebook and have only digital notes in my phone and laptop. None of the kitchen items are mine: here in Finland I borrow them from a friend, and in Denmark I will borrow them from my partner. The t-shirts I use are his too. "Sweatshirts" is an exaggeration. I only have one because it's not as cold in southern Finland and in Denmark as it was in northern Sweden. Instead of sweatshirts I wear linen shirts. 

When I contemplate my sufficiency list, I notice that it focuses on material objects. It was its original purpose too. But the more I think about it now, the more I want to add other items that matter. Living comfortably and happily with very few items is possible when the focus is elsewhere, not in the material realm. For example, love, spiritual growth and hope are important.

A while ago I thought that since I lived with so few items, there was nothing else I could do in this domain. I reached some point of sufficiency, or lagom. Then I started wearing, intuitively rather than intentionally, the same thing every day. I noticed how my skin is happier with far less on it (including "green" products). I noticed that I could wear a scarf over my head and didn't need a hat. I could have one set of bed sheets, and they would dry very quickly in warm Nordic homes, so I didn't need more. I could digitalise so many of my documents. I could borrow a lot of objects. 

149

 Rønnebær

In late summers I always pick rowan berries. Some people dislike them, but to me they are delicious. I eat them raw. 

148

 Everyday

To me as a human being and a researcher, everyday life is infinitely more interesting than contemplating grand visions of some new form of ecological society. Love towards the cosmos manifests in everyday life, in small actions. The form of activism I prefer is everyday activism, not participating in protests. Though of course every human being should choose for themselves how they practise being political. 

Prefigurative politics feels aligned with this hands-on approach to transformations. Some of it is calming and good for wellbeing, such as living with less, experiencing gratitude and love towards the universe, striving for simplicity. Other engagement is less pleasant but is extremely important, such as going against sexism and other forms of discrimination. 

147

 Journey

Soon I will be visiting Aalborg university and Roskilde university in Denmark. I will thus be relocating to Denmark for some time. Getting permission from my university to go there for a long enough time to accomplish what I wanted to accomplish there took a while and was very difficult psychologically. I was diagnosed with stress because of this, which makes planning more challenging. I've been wondering what I should be taking with me in terms of material objects. But beyond the material aspects of this journey I'm thinking much about the non-material aspects, such as mental distress and love in its different manifestations. 

146

Story time

My partner and I are both in academia. We work in the same field though each of us has our own research interests and we are based in different countries. He reached out to me some years ago to share some reflections and ask a question about my first paper. We decided to write together. We were colleagues for a while, then we became friends. Both of us were in long-term relationships. Over time, we fell in love and spoke to our then-partners about it. We decided to fully step out of our previous relationships and be together. Both of us retained good relationships with our previous partners. Naturally, stepping on this path of being together was a challenging process, there were ups and downs, but for both of us our relationship is beautiful and sacred. 

My partner came to Finland for the weekend to see me and we spent these days contemplating the present and our future. 

145

 Clarity

At times, there are relatively peaceful chapters in one's life when it feels right to take time, grow and contemplate one's values and practices. At other times, there is a need to make a huge decision, fast, in stressful circumstances and within powerful hierarchies and systems that are not on your side. Recently, the Finnish university I work for asked me to choose between my partner who is based in Denmark and my job. Retaining the job means seeing my partner only during holidays and via technology. It also comes with financial pressures as we would be paying for our Danish home and my rent in Finland. Choosing love means ending my employment here and stepping into the unknown. Forcing me to choose does not feel fair or reasonable, especially considering that I study Danish businesses as well as Swedish and Finnish ones and do not need to be on-site. 

In my experience, arguing for fairness takes much time and doesn't result in much, as essentially one is trying to reason and negotiate from a less powerful position in a hostile space. The price one pays in psychological wellbeing is immense. When I was doing my PhD, my supervisor plagiarised my work and even left the evidence of plagiarism since he did not think that I would confront him or take it further. The process of removing him from my supervision was incredibly painful, slow, and I was lucky that some fellow humans at the university supported me, then a PhD student, and were willing to investigate and look at the evidence. This process postponed my graduation for a year and I experienced severe mental health consequences. The individual was not fired but at least my work remained mine.

Sometimes I feel it is better to walk away. In the current situation, the choice is not really a choice. I am smiling as I'm writing these words. It took less than a second for me to decide. Part of the mode of being I contemplate in this autoethnography is developing a strong, beautiful set of values. Love is of course a value. I realised a while ago that love towards one fellow human is not necessarily the meaning of life. My first love is the cosmos. But then love crystallises more concretely when I experience it towards someone else. I've always found it easy to love the cosmos or nature. Being with another person has its ups and downs, and there might be things you don't love about them. But they are also a child of nature, and loving someone is humbling and contributes to growth. Employers are interchangeable, just like employees are to them. At times, it is possible to find beautiful spaces in academia though too. But the warmth one might feel towards one's workplace is nothing in comparison to love towards one's partner, or the self. 

Yes, there are severe financial implications of my decision. But I have zero doubt about my values, and the experience of clarity is very strong in this situation. 

"This morning I woke up super early and was thinking about the situation, you and us. You know, I feel so blessed to be together with someone with such courage and clear, beautiful values. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life in your company."

144

 Limbo

Earlier today I was going through the proof of my article based on this autoethnography. The article was written when I still lived in northern Sweden and accepted in August 2022. It captured my practices of that chapter of my life. In that article I emphasised that being of deep transformations is a journey, but since I left northern Sweden, my understanding of this journey-like character of this mode of being deepened a lot. My life in northern Sweden was very peaceful, and many of my practices and principles crystallised into routines and a particular mode of being. The city where I lived is rather small. I had my favourite local and small businesses I would buy from and my favourite places I would visit often. To some degree, my existence was solitary (though of course also with others, especially non-humans), and the state of my mind healthy. In northern Sweden it is easy to be present with nature and her powers. During the long, cold and dark winter I could write much, and during the summer it was magical to see beautiful light and pink sky at 1 am. Being with northern lights was a spiritual experience for me. 

Leaving northern Sweden felt like leaving a comfortable and cosy cocoon. I stepped into the realm of a large city, though I found a place on an island where I felt good and somewhat close to nature, especially to the sea. After relocating, I experienced many health issues. I feel comfortable here in Finland, but I also felt that this would not be the final place where I live and is not the place where I would be rooted. Partly this is because of my short-term contract, partly because of the language, and partly because of my loved one who is not based in Finland. I started sketching another autoethnographic article when the feeling of ephemerality manifested very strongly. 

I began to notice how various challenges take over one's mind and it becomes more difficult to think about sustainability. If I didn't have my existing ecological routines and principles, I doubt I would be able to think about them deeply at this moment. Something that has always been on my mind is the obvious aspect of my being where I don't live ecologically: I don't have a garden where I could grow my own food. Buying land or a house with a garden, establishing a garden, growing one's own food takes a lot of time. When an academic contract is only a 2-year one, it is difficult to think about being rooted and make long-term decisions. It is difficult to plan something or commit to something when you don't know where you are going to live. 

143

 Food

Whenever possible, I try to eat local and minimally processed food. I love the flavours of what grows naturally, and can be grown, in this region. Mushrooms, berries, spruce tips, oats, rye, lettuce, potatoes, peas, apples and so on. Like most humans here, I also eat what grows further away. 

Today was my fellow human's birthday. This fellow human comes from Colombia. She recently saw physalis in a store and bought it to share with others. Though it came from far away, it had a special significance, and the act of sharing was beautiful. 

142

 Space to think

Contemplating being in a different country is overwhelming. There are many legal aspects that need to be resolved, and so many parties are involved. I find it easier to think in a space that is light and is home only to essentials. 

141

 Things taking shape and ecological living

The past few months have been challenging. For a while I've been thinking about living permanently somewhere else while working for the same university here in Finland. I had a conversation with my fellow human at work, and she was supportive of the recent unfoldings in my life. I moved to beautiful southern Finland from magical northern Sweden in the end of 2022, and it is very likely that I will be moving again soon. Living in two countries is very expensive, and the travelling that comes with it is unkind to nature, so I decided to make one country my home and be in Finland only when necessary.

I am a British citizen, which complicates slightly my relocation within Europe after Brexit. Residence permits are expensive, so some of the money saved via practising extreme minimalism goes towards getting a permit. There is some bureaucracy associated with relocation, and it takes much energy and also time. Living simply and having various sustainability routines helps a lot. Apart from many documents and agreements that I need to think about in relation to my relocation, I think much about the objects I live with. I live with very few items, but I will not take all of them with me when I move. Most of the kitchen items I live with were borrowed from a friend, and I will return them. Some very old items, such as textiles that cannot be donated or given to friends, can be recycled. I will give away some of the objects to fellow humans and charities. It is interesting to see that my so-called sufficiency list, a playful list I sketched many years ago, hasn't changed much: I will take with me only the items that are in that list, as was the case when I moved from England to Sweden and when I moved from Sweden to Finland. It is always interesting to contemplate how little a human being might need to live a comfortable life. 

140

 Home

For a while, my partner and I have been contemplating our future home. We haven't yet found that place but we have decided on the city and the area. For me, the concept of a home is abstract. Since my childhood, I relocated a lot, and then this trend continued when I could make my own decisions regarding where to live. In the past three years I've lived in England, Sweden and Finland, and our future home will not be in any of these countries. I look forward to settling somewhere. I have also been sketching some notes for a paper on being of deep transformations and change as I try to capture the relationship between this mode of being and moving, being exposed to different structures and constellations. 

Ecological sustainability is important for both my partner and for me. We decided to find a small place. I've lived in rather small apartments (20 and 29 sq m) in the past two years, and it's easy to care for such apartments with minimal effort and minimal energy expenditure (less devices). Such spaces stay warm easily in winter, and in summer I simply open the windows to let fresh air in. 

I've lived without a vacuum cleaner and a washing machine for approximately half a year. While I've enjoyed this practice a lot, most likely this will change when I live with another human being. I still plan to clean and wash whatever I can by hand, as it is a humbling and grounding activity. 

Since our home for the next many years will be in a city due to care commitments, we hope to grow some food if possible. We plan to adopt many if not all of my ecological practices in terms of caring for our home, ourselves, and our guests. We also plan to maintain a minimalist lifestyle, though very likely it will not be extreme minimalist. For instance, we will likely have some furniture.

139

 Weltschmerz

I live in the westernmost part of Helsinki. At times, I need to go to the city centre. When it's nothing extremely urgent, I avoid taking the metro, and since I don't have a car or a bike, I walk. It takes me around 1.5 hours to walk there, but it's ok as not everything needs to be done most efficiently. In fact, taking my time to walk there makes me appreciate the distance and be more attentive to what is unfolding around me. While I walk, I don't listen to anything apart from the sounds of the city and nature, and I think. 

Being in central Helsinki where many shops are located is not very pleasant. I don't spend much time with people, but when I do, they are my friends and other fellow humans who practise sustainability in different ways. Seeing manifestations of consumerism causes those in the field of sustainability, I believe, to experience Weltschmerz. Small-scale practices, which I advocate, performed by some individuals in society do not feel enough. And of course it is also painful to see extreme wealth co-existing with poverty. 

I didn't spend much time in the centre. On my way back I found a hair tie on the ground. I washed it at home and will be using it. I believe it's a rather common practice within the zero-waste and more generally sustainability movement. Last time I needed a hair tie, I asked my fellow human if she had a spare one. 

138

 Rethinking very small things

Oftentimes, whenever I rethink my relationship with some object, I am reminded of the multiple times when my fellow humans said that such things do not matter. What matters, in their view, is who one votes for. While I don't disagree with the importance of what they advocate, I also believe that small-scale actions matter as well, and they matter a lot. I am happy to dedicate some of my time to thinking what I manifest in the world, what values, which structures I support, reproduce or transform in my everyday actions.

This black wallet was a gift from my ex partner. I've had it for many years and it is not broken or damaged. From a sustainability perspective, it is good to use items until they are no longer usable. But over time I've become uncomfortable with the brand name and the material of the wallet, as well as with the perceived need to have a dedicated item for my bank and id cards. I used this item every time I would pay for something, and I simply did not want to support this brand name. I wanted to manifest the value of simplicity. Thankfully I had a cotton pouch which came with some soaps that I bought from an eco-social business in Stockholm. I began using this pouch instead of the wallet and gave the wallet away. 

137

 Downsizing

In my previous entry I mentioned that I was contemplating downsizing my possessions, including my wardrobe, even further. I didn't spend much time on deciding what to keep and what not to keep, as I simply kept the items I use most often. Some items wore out so much that I could not use them any longer. It's one of the biggest issues with an extremely small wardrobe: things wear out from use and perhaps also due to exposure to water, since one washes them much more often. I find signs of wear beautiful, but at some point items approach the end of their life as wearable objects. I kept three shirts, two pairs of trousers, two pairs of shorts and a sweatshirt. I also kept my partner's white t-shirt which I wear most often and a very old pair of trousers which I will recycle later this year. I also have a light jacket and a vest which I brought from Sweden. There is also a large grey woollen scarf and three hemp and linen scarves. There are two backpacks and several cotton bags that I use for groceries, storage, as everyday bags, etc. 

While ecological sustainability is naturally on my mind when I practise living with much less than what is normal in this society, there are so many other dimensions to this mode of being. There is a social dimension, or challenging the norm of looking different every day. It often provokes conversations with students and other fellow humans. There is a spiritual dimension, as I practise non-attachment and simplicity, paying attention to other things in life (care, love, kindness etc.) rather than ensuring that I look presentable or attractive to someone else. There is an aesthetic dimension, as I am surrounded by the colours I find calming and beautiful. There is a practical dimension: it is much easier to live with less. Very little of my energy goes towards deciding what to wear. Everything is easy to care for. Everything can be used in different spaces, though of course I look more casual than others at work and at conferences, though I am absolutely fine with it. 

I still believe that small-scale actions (including altering one's consumption pattern) matter, not least because there are so many positive outcomes in addition to the ecological dimension. Living with very few possessions is a spiritual practice, not simply ecological. When my fellow humans say something along the lines of "it doesn't matter how many items of clothing you own, what matters more is who you vote for" creates unnecessary oppositions and diminishes the value of everyday practices. 

As for the wardrobe itself, I do not think there is a blueprint or a perfect way to practise extreme minimalism. It depends on one's preferences and circumstances. For example, I live in a Nordic country and need to own a jacket and a scarf. I find neutral colours serene, someone else might prefer bright colours, and there is nothing wrong with that. I also prefer very simple clothes. My "uniform" for many years has been joggers and a shirt. I wear this outfit when I lecture, attend conferences, go for a walk, work from home, and so on. 

Most of the time my fellow humans are curious about this practice and even supportive, but at times there is some judgement. Many years ago I decided to not wear a bra. In fact I wore it only on and off for a few years in my life and in my early twenties I came to a conclusion that it was not something I wanted to continue doing. During these many years, I've received many comments and questions about my practice, but I do not ever plan to stop practising bra-free living. I strongly believe that it's every human's right to choose whether they want to wear it or not. 

Overall, my relationship with the objects I live with is dynamic. It is not the number of objects that matters, but rather the relationship itself and the underlying values that manifest in one's practice. 

136

 Less

I've lived in the Nordics, after moving here from England, for 2 years. During these two years, just like for some years before I moved here, I've been practising extreme minimalism. The word extreme perhaps sounds too harsh, and I would rather describe this kind of minimalism using other adjectives such as serene, calm, harmonious, relaxing, loving, caring, adventurous, playful. During this time some items came and went (often they were not even mine), but I never really sat down to think more deeply about my relationship with the objects I live with, though I do it on some level often. Some recent unfoldings in my life made me think about spending more time in another country, and it prompted me to think about my relationship with objects again. Perhaps this is because I've kept the items I brought with me from northern Sweden and also got a few more items here in southern Finland. When my partner visited me, he left his t-shirt in my apartment and I started wearing it often. It made me think about him and also about the cat I used to live with. The cat didn't need any clothes, but she always seemed confident and happy. She inspired me much on my minimalist journey. Just like any other human being, I recognise that we are not cats, that clothes are an important part of culture and self expression. But at times inspiration comes from unusual or unexpected places. Most would probably say that my existing wardrobe was already extremely minimalist. I've not counted the items but the number would be less than 20. I noticed that I wasn't wearing all of them, and some of them I wore much more often than others. I decided to find a new home for the ones I was not using. It once again reminds me that a different mode of being is a journey. 

135

 Healing slowly

During periods of dissociation I don't do anything to force myself out of this state. I trust my mind to return to a more normal state of being in the world when it's ready. I follow simple routines, minimise exposure to various stimuli such as music and busy spaces. I spend time with nature.

Below: lingon (tyttebær)

134

Dissociation 2 (when mind takes over)

These days I'm thinking a lot about how periods of dissociation affect the unfolding of my everyday practice of sustainability and how this practice helps. During these times it is somewhat easy to write academic texts. Emotions and feelings are suppressed so much that I feel like a non-human being (equipment of some kind) with basic functions. Time flies: I could start work in the morning and then only become conscious of my actions again much later in the afternoon. It's not the same as being in the flow state, which is, in my experience, a positive or even euphoric state of oneness with a task. If I read again the texts I wrote, I don't feel like they are mine. I try to work more from home, though it may not be a good idea, but I do it to avoid my fellow humans. I don't hide from them what I'm going through, and generally they are supportive and understanding. But I don't think that at such times I can be fully present there for them, my presence doesn't feel authentic at all. It doesn't feel like anything. 

I try to avoid mirrors (see my previous entry) and connect rather with my Self (as in deep ecology, the Self that transcends the narrow self and embraces the world/cosmos). I walk in the rain to remind my body of different sensations and hold the stone I brought from Sweden for a long time. 

Usually, in my case, these episodes last a few days or some weeks, at times months. In the first few days the experience of dissociation seems most severe. Or perhaps it is the same throughout, but the mind and body get used to it and find a way to function under these conditions. Over time, this experience brings feelings of indifference and detachment. It is terrifying because you don't feel whole, don't feel like yourself and are terrified to never regain feelings and emotions, to do something with severe consequences such as not notice a car when crossing a road. It is also terrifying because after such episodes emotions and feelings can return like a wave. 

I often mention extreme minimalism as a mode of being that is good from an ecological and spiritual perspective. Extreme minimalist practices go against overconsumption and are, in my view, conducive to spiritual growth. In my experience, such practices are also helpful during challenging periods of dissociation. These practices, analysing and perfecting them, are not the first thing on my mind during these times. One thing that is on my mind is sustaining myself as a biological body, such as consuming food while I feel no hunger at all. Another thing is doing my normal tasks at work. I try to heal via going for walks in safe and beautiful areas, spending time with nature. I try to avoid doing anything extreme in an attempt to force myself out of this state, as I try to trust my mind to do it when it's ready. I try to avoid unsafe areas such as tall bridges and cliffs. Having very few objects around is calming and makes it easy for me to navigate my space and care for it. As I've developed sustainable practices during the past 10 years, such as using natural products, eating simple, minimally processed, preferably local food, going for walks every day, I can rely on these routines and habits. 

133

 Dissociation

As someone living with aphantasia, I don't have many (or good quality) autobiographical memories. Like other memories, they are recorded as bullet points or stories, in words. There are no images or short films that would make my autobiographical memories rich and full. 

My memories of the periods of dissociation are - though there are no images associated with them either - rather detailed. This is probably because such periods feel surreal and are rare but important. Perhaps everyone's experiences of dissociation, if this is a mechanism one's mind uses in or after extremely stressful events, are different. I experience dissociation as a sudden and extreme reduction in emotions (or feelings), an inability to experience the world properly, and an inability to recognise myself in a mirror. Reduction in emotions is manifested in, for instance, feeling deeply about someone one day and the following day seeing that human being as a stranger, not feeling any deeper towards them than any other fellow human. It can also be manifested in not feeling appropriate emotions such as fear. During periods of dissociation I would go for long walks in the areas that I would normally see as unsafe. During these periods I don't experience hunger, and even the feeling of thirst is faint. A lack of ability to experience properly manifests, for instance, in touching extremely cold water, ice, or snow, and not feeling cold. If someone asked, I would be able to tell that those things are "cold" but I wouldn't feel/experience it myself or would not be fully aware of it. Not being able to recognise oneself in a mirror is unsettling. I experience it as complete emotional disconnection from myself rather than not knowing that it is indeed me. Everyday life turns into somewhat mechanistic managing of oneself as a biological being (a body). 

I believe that dissociation is a defence mechanism of one's psyche. At times, emotional stress becomes so unbearable that the only solution the mind has is to unplug from emotions that feel all-consuming and suffocating. It allows me to think more rationally and reclaim the sense of self. Usually there are activities or things that I can turn to because they feel inherently safe, good and valuable, such as my work and nature. 

On some occasions I spoke to psychologists about periods of dissociation. They would recommend various grounding techniques and somatic exercises. Intuitively, I feel drawn to nature for healing. Experiencing nature's textures, flavours, scents, and sounds is powerful. At the same time, philosophically I feel most comfortable in the realm of existentialism. It helps me acknowledge various emotions, feelings and experiences as parts of human experience of life and parts of human condition, including those emotions etc. that are seen as less desirable (such as sorrow, angst, doubt, insecurity) and spend time with them. In the periods of dissociation it is easier to be with these emotions, feelings and experiences, and even honour them, rather than be consumed by them. In my experience, rarely are such emotions and feelings without a reason, usually they are natural responses to unsafe situations. 

At these times I am reminded of the importance to develop a healthy relationship with nature and the cosmos at large. Without seeing nature as a safe space, I would find it much more difficult to feel whole again. 

132

 Fellow humans' sustainability journeys, stories, practices

Some years ago I decided to make my personal practice of sustainability public, to not only intentionally follow, contemplate and analyse my own journey but also to reveal to my fellow humans many thoughts, nuance and struggles that accompany this journey. Many, if not all, fellow humans at work have their own constellations of sustainability practices and stories, they are on their own sustainability journeys. One fellow human uses the glass jar in the picture above to bring her oats to work. She also uses it to store food leftovers. 

131

 Care at work

A fellow human at work left this kind note for me when she left the office and I was in a meeting. These small manifestations of care towards fellow beings are beautiful. 

130

 Being with rainwater

When I lived in England, I thought that I had to own an umbrella. In more than 10 years of living there, I had two, one I brought from Denmark and one I bought in England. Rather quickly I began to question my perceived need to own an umbrella, especially in a country where it rains so much. Because it rains a lot, I felt that I had to develop a different relationship with the rain. I fell in love with it. I began walking in the rain as much as possible, wearing less rather than more, not feeling the need to protect myself from the rain. Walking in the rain was the only time when I could feel beautiful soft water on my skin and hair, since the water in the area where I used to live was hard (high in minerals). I gave the umbrella away. In northern Sweden it didn't rain much. In southern Finland it does. I realised that my laptop was the only item I needed to protect from rainwater. I don't feel uncomfortable having rain drops in my hair when I come to work, and my clothes dry quickly in the office. To keep warm in the rain I wear a large woollen scarf I brought from Sweden. 

129

 Zucchini

My fellow human at work gave me this beautiful courgette from her garden as a gift. Courgettes are delicious raw in salads. The pattern of the rind of this courgette is magical. When I was taking the photo above, another fellow human said that she liked the contrast between the office desk and the fresh, organic courgette from a local garden.