For the better part of a decade, I have been teaching permaculture, a design approach that aims to harmonise human activity with the ecosystems we inhabit. A permaculture designer applies ecological principles, patterns, and processes to gardens, farms, community projects, businesses, and even lifestyles in a holistic, integrative way that benefits both the human and the more-than-human.

While permaculture offers concepts and tools that are invaluable to the designer, it is important to remember that at its heart, it is an indigenous science rooted in direct experience and interconnection with the environment. This foundational aspect often gets lost. The following is a reflection on my inquiry into the dialogue between the human and the more-than-human—and how a body-oriented approach to teaching ecology and permaculture can bridge the gap between the story of separation and the story of connection and belonging.

The dialogue of connection

The dialogue between the human and the more-than-human world—the broader ecology of which we are an intrinsic part—takes place through the sensing, breathing body as a whole, rather than the intellectual, thinking mind. This dialogue invites us to move beyond the illusion of separation and toward a state of connection, wholeness, and belonging.

This is not to reject the mind or the intellectual process. Both are valuable. However, when they operate at the expense of the sensing, breathing, embodied self, we are drawn away from the immediacy of present-moment experience into a conceptual realm of ideas and ideals. While concepts and theories can be useful, they often remain abstract, detached from the actual reality of being alive.

“The inner knowing that I am nature—that I am part of the same life processes as the trees, rivers, and birds—is where I believe the liberation of the human spirit and culture lies.”

The limits of conventional ecology and permaculture

Even in experiential or applied forms such as permaculture, ecology is often taught through a lens of separation. Humans are often seen as outside of nature, studying it from a distance through books, other people’s stories, and secondhand knowledge. Students learn names, functions, tools, principles, and interconnections—all of which can spark curiosity and even a sense of wonder. This intellectual understanding can inspire reverence for the natural world, but it stops short of fostering a deep, embodied sense of belonging.

What is often missing is a direct, felt experience of one’s own ecology—the living, breathing truth of being an ecological being intrinsically connected to all life. This felt sense cannot be captured by definitions or diagrams. It must be lived and known in the body.

This disconnection is not only an ecological issue but also a cultural and spiritual one. The inner knowing that I am nature—that I am part of the same life processes as the trees, rivers, and birds—is where I believe the liberation of the human spirit and culture lies.

Somatic practice as a bridge

Somatic approaches provide tools to bridge the divide between humans and the more-than-human world. By bringing awareness to the body and its sensations, we can cultivate a sense of presence that is grounded, alive, and relational.

For example, embodied explorations of our primary ecological relationships—our connection to the ground or the earth or even the space surrounding us—can create profound shifts in awareness. Imagine walking barefoot on soil, not as a casual activity but as a practice of noticing. How does the ground feel beneath your feet? What is the temperature, texture, and give of the earth? As you breathe, can you sense the exchange between your body and the air around you?

“While the separate mind wonders, the body-mind stops. While the separate mind scatters into distraction, the body-mind anchors itself in presence.”

These practices can bring us into direct contact with the world, bypassing the conceptual mind and inviting a visceral sense of belonging. Through this process, we begin to understand ecology not as something out there but as something happening within and through us.

The practice of slowing down

While the separate mind wonders, the body-mind stops. While the separate mind scatters into distraction, the body-mind anchors itself in presence. While the separate mind creates fantasies, the body-mind notices what is here and now.

There is a natural slowing down that occurs when we bring awareness to the body. In this slowing down, we begin to regulate, resonate, and recognise our relatedness. When I take people from the city into the countryside—or even when I retreat myself—the first days often bring immense tiredness, a release of tension from the relentless pace of modern life. This slowing down is not just a luxury; it is a necessity for ecological connection.

From conceptual to embodied knowing

The intellectual enthusiasm that comes from learning concepts and principles that give hope, meaning and purpose can be exciting. But in actuality, this enthusiasm often takes us further away from the truth of our lived experience. It keeps us in the realm of ideas rather than grounding us in the embodied connection to the world.

When we shift from a conceptual understanding to an embodied one, something profound happens. We move from seeing ourselves as separate to knowing ourselves as part of the whole—a shift that can be deeply transformative.

Practices for an embodied ecology

To bring an embodied approach to ecology, we must create opportunities for direct, sensory engagement with the natural world. Some practices to explore include:

Orienting: Start the day by letting the world come to you through your senses. Notice the effects this has on your state of being.
Sensory walks: Move through a natural space with the intention of noticing sensations. What do you hear, smell, and feel? How does the air move around you? What textures catch your attention?
Breathing with the environment: Spend time noticing the relationship between your breath and the surrounding environment. Imagine breathing with the trees, whose oxygen sustains you.
Somatic movement: Explore movements that mimic natural processes, such as the flow of water, the rooting of a tree, or the rise and fall of waves. Allow your body to express these patterns and notice how it feels to inhabit them.
Nest making: Gather materials in nature and build a nest. Weave through the cycle of exploring, creating, and finally resting.
Stillness and listening: Sit in stillness in a natural setting, allowing your attention to rest on the sounds and movements around you. Notice how your body responds to the environment. Notice what it’s like to do a little less in this moment.

These practices are not about achieving anything or arriving at a particular insight. They are about being, noticing, and opening to the possibility of connection.

“Through the sensing, breathing body, we find our way home to the earth.”

Longing for belonging

At its heart, embodied ecology is a call to belong—to remember that we are not separate from the living world but woven into its fabric. This remembering is not something that can be learned through books or lectures. It is something that must be felt, lived, and experienced.

Through the sensing, breathing body, we find our way home to the earth. And in this homecoming, we discover not only connection but also wholeness—a sense of being at peace with ourselves and the world around us.

Upcoming Embodied Ecology Retreats and Workshops