One with Nature

As humans, we have managed to mark the natural world as other. We build environments, mine resources and overconsume. We have chosen our own creature comforts and conveniences over fair and just treatment of the land and beings with which we coexist. Shifting away from mechanical interactions and moving toward consciousness in daily life can help reconstruct how we perceive the world around us and how we choose to interact with it. This present state of mind allows us to tap into our ability to reconnect with the natural world as though we are truly part of it and reflect this connection through future decision-making—working toward restoring our relationship with the land, ourselves, and one another.

Excerpt from Creating Enabling Environments: Grounding in the CfC Polycene Design Manual Draft, by Dara Benno

Some of my fellowship work at the CfC has examined what it means to create enabling environments in which to practice care for the self, others, and the natural world while setting the stage for the ability to imagine a desirable future based on mutual respect. For me, this means trying to develop a practice of extreme consciousness and consideration in my everyday life — these days, fully embracing “plant mom” status.

Last Monday morning, my anemone greeted me with wide-open petals. It came as a surprise to me since the evening prior I was concerned that maybe her time had come. I’m aware that cut flowers may not last long. But on weekends, I treat myself to a selection of seasonal beauties from one of my favorite local plant shops in Providence, Robin Hollow Farm. Yesterday evening, her petals looked like maybe they had grown weary, closing the expressive form they had taken on the day prior. I realized that she was just showing me life and all I had to do was pay attention.??

I’ve recently chosen plants with a lot of character to bring into my home. Ones that prefer filtered water to live their best lives, wear patterned suits of greenery, and move their bodies with the change in daylight — embracing the morning with outstretched leaves and folding inward at night to rest. In times of such extreme uncertainty, I pause to contemplate what I’m being told and consider the routines I’ve incorporated into my life…movement is healing and rest is necessary, with the added bonus that sometimes wearing patterns can make a difference.

I can’t end my reflection without mentioning the protagonist in my plant story, the ficus tree that I’ve had with me for 11 years. I rescued him from the trash when I first moved to New York City. He was but a skinny trunk with one brown leaf struggling to hang on. I had never really had my own plants and had no idea how to revive him but I somehow managed to nurse him back to health, watching him grow upwards of 6 feet and trimming him down to fit in my car for various moves. This tree represents a lot for me — time, patience, nourishment, partnership, change, growth, mistakes, chances, hope, and resilience. A friend recently told me that people often have these trees in their lives longer than anything else. What a beautiful thing to consider — how my tree and my plants can continue to teach me how to incorporate multisensory engagements with the world around me into my everyday actions and observations, helping to create a much-needed awareness of space and place alongside scale and time, to aid in a form of constant recalibration and ongoing connection to the natural world — from the interior of my home to the limitless outdoors.

Written by Dara Benno