The Plea for Nature
Nature is the jewel of life.
To displace ourselves from the natural world is to remove, almost with surgical precision, that part which makes us belong. By removing our animal side from the concept of living in a modern world, we suffocate behaviors and primal needs.
What happens then is this diffusion of confusing anxieties and frustrations that we cannot name.
At the essence of unnamed suffering you can find sterility of what makes us animals. That which you cannot name, the eternal draw to smell flowers, the need to touch trees and to walk barefoot on grass or dirt, to sink your toes into mud or sand is, to resume it simply, a repressed behavior of the primal kind.
We humans cannot exist in this vast, globalized, modernized, urbanized environment we call cities without properly attending our basic, animal urges and needs that stem back to the days of our initial evolution.
I know my urge to embrace trees comes from a thirst to be in Nature.
I know my need to walk barefoot stems from older days that have absolutely nothing subjectively to do with me but everything to do with all my ancestors, starting with the first Homo Sapiens and maybe beyond.
It’s painful to watch concrete being poured and trees being cut down to make way for more bricks and mortar, more and more and more! The natural instincts in me scream in revolution when I see this abounding parade of concrete pouring and buildings rising up into the sky.
We do not only need to be more exposed to Nature and it’s wonders, in it’s original settling, but we need to respect it more, to invade it less, to make ourselves less known to It. We need to regain our status as creatures of Nature and we need to forego the current status in which we act as Gods of making and destruction into a World that lays at our feet; our feet ARE nature, we are not separate.
The moment we, as a collective generation and society, actualize this concept, we will return to nature and harmony, without ignoring the progress and potential we are capable to realize.
