At the Desk
As I sit working at a desk for hours on end, I wonder how I can possibly connect more to the Earth in this situation. It feels so far removed from being out in woodlands, working the soil for food, or walking in the wilderness. For me, these activities are vital to my wellbeing as they connect me to my wider ecosystem that sustains me, from the weather, to the soil. Yet I also wish to do work that is a service to my society, and to provide for my family. As I sit at my desk, I wonder, is there a way to connect to my place in the world as I work with words and numbers?
I would be lying if I said it was easy to connect into my ecosystem from a desk. Yet, I don’t think this is impossible. To believe that the desk is completely removed from the cycles of life is to fall into the trap of thinking of a human world separate from everything else.
I try to keep in mind that my desk, my computer, my pens and paper all come from the Earth, whether they have had longer or shorter journeys from their raw state to the product I use. I am touching and interacting with the Earth at every point in my day - it just requires a bit more consciousness to recognise and be grateful for. My keyboard is made of impossibly ancient life that has been compressed by incomprehensible geological forces. My desk was once growing as many trees on a hillside, drawing up water and breathing out precious oxygen. Part of my screen was once sand lying in an estuary, having been ground down over centuries and shifted hundreds of miles in all directions.
If I can remember these things, then I can be grateful for them and how they link me to the cycles of life. Just because they have been machined and designed does not make them less of the Earth. It just means I need to use my imagination a little more to understand how they connect me to my ecosystem.
Photo by Mikey Harris on Unsplash
But it is not just the materials that surround me that are important, the people who are beamed into the corner of my room are flesh and blood somewhere else on the Earth and a miracle of life. Maybe I’m frustrated with them, or tired of trying to work out exactly when to interject given the time delay, but they are still living beings somewhere on the planet. I am engaging with living reminders of the amazing world filled with life. I try to keep this in my mind as well.
My final tactic is to also make as much space as possible for the outside to come into my space. My window is often open so I can feel the elements a little, remembering that there are forces much bigger than me. I always let the sun in - but wear shades if it gets too bright. This is ridiculous in many senses, but I’d rather remember the power of the sun when it does make it through the clouds. I may be less comfortable, but I am brought back to what is going on in my ecosystem, which brings a powerful sense of meaning to me, and is worth a slightly chilled hand on occasion.
I try to bring my attention back to my position of connectedness as often as possible. It’s not perfect, but it is true. And in that truth lies a more meaningful day, and indeed life.