Finding our way back

The thatch above us, the smell of woodsmoke, the circle of people settling onto their blankets and mats.

The energy was palpable before the sound had even started, and when Sika (the musician) began the soundscape, our hearts were lifted to a place of profound healing and peace. I could feel any worries just drifting away and feel myself landing for the first time in ages.

Lost connection

This led me to think about how life may have been in the past, before technology, before electricity. I know life was probably much more physical and arduous than it is now, but I wonder whether those people had access to a deeper peace in their everyday lives, without mobile phones and the pressure of always being contactable. No notifications drawing their attention. No expectation of an instant reply. When the day's work was done, it was done.

Their evenings weren't filled with screens and scrolling but with firelight, conversation and rest. Their pace was set by the seasons and the daylight. No matter how hard their lives were physically, their minds may have known a quiet that many of us have never experienced. Maybe they had a better life in this respect.

They were naturally able to ground themselves, working so closely with the earth, gathering round the campfire to listen to stories, their own narrative history, and music. The hearth was central to their community. The fire was the means of cooking and heating, and a place to gather. With all the so-called progress we've made, I wonder if we've lost the part which connects us to each other and to the earth. I believe this connection is fundamental to our happiness and wellbeing, and I've been thinking of ways we can recreate that sense of community, of tribe, and of connection to the natural world.

I believe modern society is more disconnected from our earth than it has ever been. This disconnection means some of us don't see that when we cut down forests, build on meadows and pump sewage into our waters, what we're actually doing is harming ourselves. Our earth and ourselves are as one. We are intrinsically linked with nature, and we can't exist without the trees, the pollinators and the diversity that creates our ecosystems.

So how do we find our way back? I don't think it needs to be complicated. We're not going to give up our phones and move into round houses, however tempting that sounds some days. But we can borrow small pieces of that older way of living and weave them into the lives we actually have.

Sharing stories

Start with the fire. There's a reason we're all drawn to a flame, whether it's a bonfire, a wood burner or a single candle on the kitchen table. Light one in the evening and sit with it for a few minutes instead of scrolling. If you have friends or family around, even better. Deep conversation happens when people gather around a light source.

Eat together when you can. The hearth was where food and company met, and a shared meal is still the simplest form of community we have. It doesn't need to be a dinner party. How about cooking an extra bowl of food for an elderly neighbour?

Get your hands in the earth. Grow something, even if it's herbs on a windowsill. Walk on grass without shoes when the weather allows. Notice what the trees are doing this month. These sound like small things, and they are, but they remind our bodies of something our minds have forgotten. We belong here.

And tell your stories. Ask an older relative about their childhood. Share your own around the table. Our ancestors passed everything on this way, and it bonded them to each other. We need to hear their stories before it's too late.

None of this takes much doing. Five minutes by a candle, a meal shared, bare feet on the ground. But these small acts weave us back into the web of life, and to each other. And I think that's where our peace has been waiting for us.

With love, Sally Heart