I will not be sad in this world
By Etta Säfve och Jona Elfdahl

We read that apocalypse means revealing.

Reveal. Expose. Unveil. To remove the veil, gain sight. A clear sight. And to dare to keep looking.

Scientists talk about the sixth mass-extinction.
The mass of human created structures, the techno mass, has in the last two years, exceeded the world’s total biomass.
We are doing this.
But it is not humans as species that are, it is the human industrial civilization models, that we created and follow, that are.
Can we observe, remember, unlearn and (re)learn?

What does the world look like if we look from our innermost being?
That something, which is closely connected with everything of the surrounding world, an extended self, an ecological self.
What does that tell us? And how do we listen and connect to it?

We were brought up in a society based on violence, slavery, and disconnection.
We are not in good shape. Our traumas stand in between us and the world.
But we also have memories from human history long before this.
The industrial society is just a fractal in the human experience, and we are all native to the regenerative impulse that is called life.
A living system of everchanging relational entities, that I and you are a part of, that has never, and can never, be separated. A me in you, a we in us, rather than a me and you, or, we and they.
The indescribable precision of the barely perceptible. A notion of a complex whole, of which most attempts to describe or understand it with logic or measurability, or even a preconceived question or wish for answer, makes it fall into separated pieces.
We were brought up learning to understand things mostly through looking at them as bits and pieces, examining what they are made of, rather than what they stand in relation to.

We are walking in to the dark, in silence. We are not alone.

I am sitting down at one spot in the grass. Trying to invite myself to let the world open itself up inside of me. It will tell me what to ask if I need to know something.
It is a process of trust.
Or of silence. Of not knowing, but not without the conviction of the indescribable as a guide and in-depth learning.
It is a search through the performative, through the physical experience of place and the becoming of place. It is the pervasive, collective, and deeply personal experience of ritual presence and a movement towards an expanded self.
To relearn what was once lost. To reconnect us to each other, wider nature, the more than human and cosmic life.

Listening. Not bringing any question. Nor seeking an answer. 
A ”do nothing farming”. Paying attention. Observe what will come.

If a lawn is left alone, it will slowly turn in to a forest. If we leave space, and time, silent gaps, and openings for things to emerge, for the succession to operate, it will, also inside of ourselves. Things will grow. Life wants to live. It is regenerative. If we let it. This thought puts our compulsory fears wanting to” fix the situation”, in a new perspective.

How can we create time spaces, room and situations for processes, the rooms in-between and beyond, where the deeper inner changes can take place?

Edge zones in ecosystems, where two biotopes meet, are often described as particularly fertile. This could mean that it is in our margins, the boundaries for our knowledge and comfort zones that we learn the most. 
The importance of walking out into the zone of "non-knowledge".
To dare to be in vulnerability. To walk in deep water. Straight into the darkness of the unknown.

To see. Unveiled. Pay attention. Humbly bow before the intangible.

Someone told us that knowledge belongs to every particle in the universe in equal measure. Every single individual is born with the complete knowledge of the universe engraved in every cell of their body.
So many veiling layers printed over the fine lines of engraved knowledge. Layers of patterned behaviors, social structures, norms, emotions, fears.
But there is a magical line drawn between here and the trees, and in it, there is a small opening.
Through that opening we’re sneaking in to cultivate our wildness again. Cultivate a new culture, as in building something where our inner knowledge of a regenerative interrelated world can float up to the surface of the deep water, we are all standing in.

reconnection, silence, listening, trust, deep water, do nothing farming, regenerative impulse

About the authors
Etta Säfve and Jona Elfdahl collaborate as the permanent ensemble within the artist group and transdisciplinary art and resilience platform Gylleboverket. Their artistic practice originates in deep ecology, spiritual experimentation on a quest for an ecological self. The artist group Gylleboverket works with large site-specific installations, performances, rituals, text, film, and social sculpture.
Their work has been shown at among other places; Färgfabriken, Stockholm, Trollhättans Konsthall, Örebro Konsthall, Havremagasinet, Boden, Inter Arts Centre, Malmö.
Etta Säfve and Jona Elfdahl also hold workshops and lectures on-site at Gylleboverket, nationally in Sweden and internationally.