Being with others
In my works, including my autoethnography, I often use Roy Bhaskar's four planes of being (material transactions with nature, social relations, social structures, and inner being) to understand what unfolds and what needs to unfold for a genuinely sustainable society to come into being. I've always had a soft spot for the plane of inner being. Perhaps this is due to my own interest in how we, as individuals, including myself, relate with the world. I believe that much work needs to be done in terms of our individual selves, and I very much like this quote from Bhaskar (2000, p. 62): "Ultimately all change in the social world depends on self-expansion leading to self-transcendence".
The plane of material transactions with nature always feels straightforward and more mechanistic. In terms of sustainability, this is where imperatives such as reduce and recycle reside. Social structures have never been the main interest of mine, though as any other human being I am acutely aware of them and witness and feel how they constrain (and at times empower) myself and others. I do not think that any one plane is ultimately more important than the other ones, it is a matter of personal interest and worldview.
The plane of social relations is likewise not my favourite one. Here I don't mean abstract social relations (e.g., between capital and labour), but very concrete and personal relations between humans and the role they play in bringing about a beautiful society living in harmony within itself and with nature. While as any other human being, I relate in different ways with fellow humans, the way my life has unfolded has not been conducive to building relations. Since the age of 4 or so, I have moved a lot and never stayed anywhere for a very long time. When my fellow humans tell me about their friends they met at school or even kindergarten, I can understand that it is possible, but there has never been anything like that in my own story.
In some ways, this has been good for developing a loving and kind way of relating with the world. Oftentimes, especially when I lived in sparsely populated areas, I developed close relationships with non-humans, relationships that to me are as beautiful, rich and valid as any other ones. And, not having a defined social circle also meant meeting the social world in general with love, seeing all humans as fellow beings. Rarely were some of them closer to me than others.
In terms of living a more sustainable lifestyle, social relations have been, in my experience, generally supplementary to material transactions with nature. Discussing with others how to dwell in the world more sustainably, sharing experiences, writing about sustainability together, sharing objects, borrowing, gifting are some examples. To a large extend, I have overlooked the emotional side of connecting with fellow humans apart from the emotions associated with somewhat brief encounters (such as joy and acceptance).
Recent times have been incredibly challenging. It is humbling to be in an emotional space where I have never been before: feeling pure sorrow is new to me. It is humbling in at least these two ways. It opened new spaces thus making me realise that there are so many things I have not yet experienced. And it invites more empathy into my life.
Nature has always been the being I turn to in times of adversity, and since nature is everywhere (the sun, the sky, the sea, trees, and so on), I have always felt supported and cared for. My recent emotional landscape has been so different that I could not sleep. It was late at night and I initially thought about going to see the sea or feel the bark of old trees on the island. The island is generally very safe, but a lack of emotional safety that I have been experiencing was projected onto the surroundings and I decided to stay at home. I messaged a fellow human to say that I felt extreme sadness. He responded by saying "tell me why". For many hours afterwards I was thinking about being in the world with others.
Reference
Bhaskar, R. (2000) From East to West: Odyssey of a soul. Routledge: London.