The Art of Uprooting.
Choosing how to do our own personal harvesting after planting, watering and growing all of our season's seeds.
I’ve watched 103 films, and 1 TV show, from beginning to end this year so far. I started and finished my master’s program final project, and presented it in front of a jury last month, just as I started my 1-month holiday, which was my first time off since January. During my holidays I visited a total of 5 museums, and 3 art galleries in Paris. I’ve admired thousands of paintings, photographs and sculptures, in a bit less than 30 days. Then finally, I came back to my treasured little routine this week, eager to continue the pace, and keep up my rhythm.
The thing was that, I did not come back to my treasured little old routine. Actually, it was nowhere to be found. I realized I left it with me, in the past. The other me, the old me. The me that was in planting season. I realized I’d been in planting season since the beginning of the year, and that my body could take it no more.
I came to reflect upon life, and it’s seasons. We are all cyclical beings. The Earth itself is too, and then, so is the whole Universe. For us, humans, life is all about planting, watering, and harvesting. We all consciously, or not, choose what seeds to plant. What we invest our resources in, are the seeds we are choosing to plant. The people we spend our time with, the conversations we engage in, the debates we start, jobs we take, skills we choose to practice, habits we nurture, books we read, people we follow online, projects we embark upon, decisions we take, places we live in, cities we visit, hobbies we acquire, and the thoughts we choose to inhabit. All of it counts.
After a while, with time, the very decision of coming back and back again to each one of these seeds, starts watering them. The seeds start to grow. For better or for worst. And there we are, all of us, at some point, with all these crops in our fields, facing the dilemma that I’ve come to name: “The uprooting dilemma”. What do we do with these crops? What do we do with all of these things we’ve been growing, nurturing and learning? The way I see it, we have 2 choices.
Option 1: We either take a moment to stop and check what crops we’ve been growing, acknowledge them, and uproot them before they perish on the ground, and taste them.
Option 2: We never stop to check our crops, and therefore, we let them perish on the ground before ever having the opportunity to taste the fruits we’ve cultivated.
In this high paced, capitalist, and consumerist society, where most people are addicted to dopamine, and the never ending auto-exposition to external stimuli through social media, music, or streaming services, most people, me included, rarely take the time to stop and detox from all the noise, the movement, the race, the hurry, fear, and the infinite catalogue of distractions. It almost seems like we are afraid of ourselves. Of being confronted with nothing but our thoughts alone for more than 2 minutes. We end up rarely acknowledging our own crops, or their decomposed trails in our fields. All that water, for what?
What should we do when the uprooting season comes then? I guess, if we want to be an active participant in our lives, and not just a dormant machine, planting and watering without reason nor intent, we should start taking presence way more seriously. Being present makes us aware of the process as we move through it. It gives us perspective, and a time to contemplate and reflect. Contemplation is vital, without it, we’ll never really see, and to really see, we need all of our senses. See with every sense you’ve got, and you’ll find the fruits you’ve been planting all along.
Right now, for me, is harvesting time. The time in between, the pause, the silence, the contemplative space where I’ll figure out which crops I’ll continue to grow, and which will not make it to the next season. Winter is coming, so, let’s grow the right plants. Nurture what will nurture you back in the coldest of seasons.
