Seated on a weathered stump, cradled by the oddity of a Berlin park, I patiently waited as my dog indulged his curiosities, tracing scents and stories invisible to me. My thoughts meandered, ensnared by something not present, when a common sparrow showed up.
Sparrows, those unassuming denizens of the urban landscape, have always intrigued me with their daring. Often darting close to people, they audaciously snatch morsels right off a diner's plate.This one sized me up, as if looking for stray breadcrumbs, an unspoken agreement between our species.
Then, suddenly, I found myself no longer observing the sparrow but becoming it. For the briefest of moments, my consciousness melded with the bird. It felt calm and unsurprising. The distinction between the sparrow and myself vanished. It no longer mattered if I was "I" or "it." I wasn't merely perceiving the sparrow; I was the sparrow. And as quickly as that sensation arrived, it was gone.
I find encounters with the more-than-human world often to be so most intriguing moments in my life.
Why is that?
Edward O. Wilson introduced the concept of "biophilia" in his 1984 book. He proposed that humans have an innate, genetically determined affinity with the natural world. This hypothesis suggests that we've evolved to seek connections with non-humans and other life forms because such connections historically contributed to our survival. This deep bond manifests in our appreciation of nature, from landscapes to animals and plants. The term "biophilia" translates to "love of life or living systems." According to Wilson, our natural affinity for life and lifelike processes might explain why we are drawn to non-humans, why we find gardens, aquariums, and forests soothing, and why we feel rejuvenated after a walk in the woods.
Recent research further supports the significance of our connection with the natural world. Activities like forest bathing, gazing at trees in hospitals, or interacting with animals have been shown to improve our health, confirming that we instinctively seek out what benefits our survival.
The scientific perspective provides a logical explanation for our affinity to the non-human world, framing it as an evolutionary mechanism with the sole purpose of survival.
As fascinating as the research is, it also feels like it is missing the point.
The underlying assumptions of this way of thinking about encounters with the non-human are:
Non-humans are only relevant in how far they benefit humans.
Encounters like the one with the sparrow are imaginary and useless.
Humans can exploit non-humans for their benefit.
The only relation between humans and non-humans is functional.
We are essentially biological machines operating on biochemical laws.
As Descartes made clear, creation itself is divided into two substances. Descartes said: with mind (or soul), on the one hand, and mere matter on the other. Mind is special; it is part of God. It cannot be described with the normal laws of physics or maths. It is an ethereal, divine substance. Humans are unique among all creatures in having minds and souls, which is the mark of their special connection to God. As for the rest of creation – including the human body itself – it is nothing but inert, unthinking matter. It is but ‘nature’.
I believe one of the key challenges we face is to overcome this disenchanted worldview and re-enchant our connection with the non-human world.
The eco-philosopher Timothy Morton claims that reenchantment expresses that enchantment “lies in the future.” And thus, he rejects a discourse of reenchantment and the implication that something—an enchanted sensibility— has been lost in the past and can somehow be regained. “People commonly criticize science for disenchanting the world, making it both utterly flat and highly profitable,” writes Morton, adding that “the more we know, the less certain and more ambiguous things become.” Enchantment arises when we confront peculiar and enigmatic circumstances that challenge our current understanding in a way that were they to be understood, our image of how the world operates would be radically transformed. To be enchanted is to be faced with something both real and uncanny, weird, mysterious, or awe-inspiring.
In contrast to the scientific perspective, animism offers a more enchanted worldview. It centers on the idea that all objects, places, and creatures possess a distinct spiritual essence or consciousness. In this worldview, the world is a living, interconnected tapestry where humans, animals, plants, and even inanimate objects like rocks or rivers each have spirits or souls.
Jason Hickel, in his book "Less is More," describes the worldview of the Achuar, an indigenous ethnic group primarily inhabiting the Amazon rainforest in Ecuador and Peru. According to Hickel, the Achuar perceive most of the jungle's plants and animals as having souls (wakan) similar to those of humans, categorizing them as literal "persons” (aents). In the eyes of the Achuar, plants and animals are considered relatives.
At this moment, my curiosity is focused on discovering a worldview that seamlessly integrates animism with science, or as Scout Rainer Wiley would say, a "metamodern animism." This worldview avoids romanticizing or idealizing the past or the more-than-human world and, simultaneously, embraces wonder, mystery, and awe to re-enchant our world. It's a worldview that takes my encounter with the sparrow seriously.
🐒 Something fascinating about others
Honeybees communicate the location of food sources to their hive mates through a unique dance known as the "waggle dance." The angle and duration of the dance convey information about the direction and distance to the food.
📚 A book I recommend
Metamorphoses by Emanuele Coccia because he delves into the philosophical aspects of metamorphosis, change, and transformation in a way I haven’t read anywhere else. One of the things I found fascinating was that he questions the whole idea of an “ecology”. He says “Planet Earth is nothing but the life of metamorphosis, the drift of all living things: its nature is such that everything must change places and every place must change its contents. Ecology is impossible, because nothing can ever remain in place: beings never have a home, and no place will ever be a home for a single owner”.
💌 A quote
“Man feels himself isolated in the cosmos, because he is no longer involved in nature and has lost his emotional unconscious identity with natural phenomena. These have slowly lost their symbolic implications. Thunder is no longer the voice of an angry god, nor is lightning his avenging missile. No river contains a spirit, no tree is the life principle of a man, no snake the embodiment of wisdom, no mountain cave the home of a great demon. No voices now speak to man from stones, plants, and animals, nor does he speak to them believing they can hear. His contact with nature has gone, and with it has gone the profound emotional energy that this symbolic connection supplied.” C.G. Jung
✍️ A journal prompt
Imagine yourself to be something else. It can be a fly or a chair in your room. What would it be like to be them?
Another great essay, Jessica. We see the world the same way, it seems. I think we love nature so much and so naturally because it is consciousness connecting with itself. :)