Tethered to a place
Bioregioning as an antidote to nationalism
As the world is shifting at speed towards reactionary, nationalist politics I wonder what the antidote could be without dismissing our collective yearning for ‘heimat’. The German word with no English equivalent could be loosely translated as ‘home’ or ‘homeland’ and describes a sense of belonging to both a geographical and social place. It is the opposite of feeling alien.
I also crave a stronger connection to my homeland, my ancestors, and their local traditions. As my parents get older I am keen to absorb as many stories and customs connected to their particular region of Austria as possible. Last autumn, I spent a week helping my dad make cider and collect a rare local variety of pears to make schnapps. I wish my grandmothers were still alive so I could ask them about the medicinal herbs they used and dishes they cooked for particular holidays. If that makes me sound like a detached city person romanticising the rural and the good old days, it is exactly that.
Those vague longings I have are not for the current national reality though, but for a bygone time when identity was more strongly connected to the land. People’s lives were directly shaped by what was growing in their territory, by the particularity of the seasons and materials produced close by. It is a way of life that no longer exists, but elements of which might be useful for this volatile era, as I’ve laid out in one of my previous posts.
The more untethered our lives become, the more disoriented we feel.
Globally, there are more people on the move than ever. A record number of people are being displaced by conflict, hunger and other impacts of climate breakdown, but also economic migration flows are at a record high. We are not only physically more mobile, we now also inhabit the digital world, a seemingly limitless place with the power to free us from the material realm, to a certain degree at least. Digital nomadism, a term coined almost three decades ago, is still on the rise. I understand its appeal. When secure employment and home ownership are out of reach, why not live in a place where the rent is cheaper and the summers longer. But by capitalising on low costs of living this lifestyle not only drives gentrification, it also fosters a culture of non-commitment. If you’re not invested in a place, emotionally or financially, you can always move on. While the internet and the tribes we form there can provide some sense of belonging, I don’t think it can fully replace true connection. And unlike relationships we form locally, with people and our physical environment, the digital realms are far more fragile. The recent near-ban of TikTok in the US illustrates just how easily platforms can change or disappear entirely and with it all the content and connections we have created on them. It is another reason to shift our emphasis back to the local, and back to the material world.
“The untethered are the losers of the next system, the system that will emerge from the logic of climate change. This new system will require resilience, which like a spider’s web only claims its strength through an interwoven network of strong relationships” writes Spencer R. Scott in his essay (a highly recommended read!) about becoming a person of place.
The cults of roots and origins
But how is this yearning for ‘heimat’ different to the sentiment the far right exploits?
A recent exhibition in Graz titled ‘Horror Patriae’ (the horror of the fatherland) asks questions like “why are homelands so horrific? Which gigantic void has caused the current rise of nationalism, identitarianism, and cults of roots and origins?” I don’t want to downplay the dangers of nationalism and the dark chapters in our history marked by othering everyone and everything foreign, but I question the narrative of condemning a search for roots altogether. The need for belonging, individually and as a community, is as old as humanity.
In the UK for example folklore has seen a huge resurgence and is now widely used in popular culture – from fashion brand Heresy, (see also the collaboration between artist Jeremy Deller and Aries), to magazine Weird Walk, dance outfit Boss Morris, and most recently Charlie Cooper’s brilliant Myth Country. By reframing ancient stories those examples situate regional culture in a contemporary context and offer a new way to explore ‘heimat’.
A practice for connection and place-bound relationships
Shifting the gaze closer to home can sometimes feel like a step back or a retreat from the global problems that are too big and overwhelming. But focusing on a smaller, local level is by no means easy or lazy. Because it is no longer abstract and general, it requires concrete action. By trying to solve tangible problems, in a unique environment, with a specific community and mindset, this approach also creates identity. A bioregional model that is aligned with the human scale allows us to understand the agency we have, and also its limitations. This might be a more useful framework for providing a sense of belonging and identity than national borders which are mostly random lines on the map and often don’t correspond with the natural features of a place.
A bioregion is a geographical area defined by climate, soil, flora and fauna and transcends national borders. Bioregioning reconnects people with those natural systems, and each other, enabling a deeper understanding of the interdependence between them and human flourishing.
It is a practice that invites us to inhabit a place in a way that is full of relationship and aligns itself with the principles and patterns of life. It recognises the need for rootedness (to a landscape, a territory, a culture) but also celebrates the importance of diversity. Just as biological diversity is essential for ecosystem health, cultural diversity is crucial for the resilience and vitality of human societies. Daniel Christian Wahl, an expert on the topic, describes a bioregion also as a terrain of shared consciousness, as a cultural terrain that has boundaries. It requires knowledge and understanding of that terrain. It requires commitment.
If you are, like me, living in a big city, how could this apply?
A short, incomplete list:
Get to know your community. Make a conscious effort to start conversations with your neighbours, local shop owners, postmen, baristas etc.
Pay attention to your non-human community. Take walks without your phone. Notice what plants are growing in your area, what birds you can see, at what time of year the trees lose their leaves or grow their first buds.
Offer help. Put effort into building relationships without expecting a return. Babysit someone's child, feed their cat, listen to a lonely neighbour, repair or fix something for others if you have the skills.
Shop locally. Not a new idea but relevant. I get all my books from my local bookstore rather than ordering them on Amazon. The bonus is I get to chat with the staff when I pick up my order. This also applies to food of course. Maybe that means sacrificing a bit of convenience, but you’ll gain a bit of connection instead.
Create new stories. Culture is not a static thing, it is alive and always evolving. Add your personal, special flavour to the local culture whatever your way of expressing yourself creatively.
One last thought, maybe for another post: Could this also coincide with a smaller internet? What would a bioregional internet look like?
On another note – I’ve been making these plates for all of you city quitters and your friends who used to live in cool neighbourhoods : ) If you want one let me know. The plates are custom made, so wherever you used to live.
I’m doing many of your suggested remedies to connect to place; and can say it works somewhat differently in the Northwest ( what we call Cascadia ). That said- what has cemented me more radically to place is a Polynesian sport -outrigger canoeing. I am outside four times per week in variable weather patterns with people I did not select for a 90 minute encounter with the elements in a tippy canoe. You build up an intimacy based on trust and know the people you are ‘benched’ with in all their strengths and weaknesses which builds confidence in the whole. There is nothing that cements trust better than risking a winter capsize.
Congratulations on a beautifully researched and written piece. I plan to send it on to my neice in Chicago who is trying to set down roots without a playbook.
I love this so damn much thank you Karen