American Dreams and the Truth in Our Nature
Sleepless reflections on Americanism and the experience of connecting with oneself in the natural world
There is a prominent concept in Japanese culture -Kachou Fuugetsu- that, when transliterated to English, means “Flower, bird, wind, moon.” It seems there is no true equivalent in the English language, so it fails to capture the deeper meaning. In so many words, it implies the experience of learning about oneself while spending time in nature.
It implies the experience of learning about oneself by spending time in nature.
Like so many words in other languages, we seem to be missing many of these more complex concepts in English. Many will have experienced the beauty of spending time reflecting in a forest or hiking into the mountains and feeling displaced from normal life. We have many fragmented concepts for these things; the gentle patter of fresh rain in a forest, a whiff of salty air and ocean spray, or the awe felt staring across a valley at far mountainsides. Yet English has no name to describe this collective experience. That we lack a word for this transformation in a pilgrimage to the wild should be of concern to Americans.
The place in which we live is comprised of so much innate beauty. Though many people do appreciate the natural world around us here, it is not as deeply ingrained in our culture to internalize that beauty and learn from it. Americanism is so heavily influenced by tales of taming the great wild and our westward expansion. Perhaps it’s no wonder there lacked a common understanding with first nations here because we had no cultural grasp of stopping to absorb from nature’s imperfection. Too consumed by greed or possibilities to the west, we pushed through and challenged all “obstacles” in our path. We persevered, rebelled against the silent and imperfect tranquility of the natural world, and began constructing our own in its place. We amassed our fortune among the acrid fumes of coal fire and steam engines, and industrialization became the exemplar of our achievement.
The American dream, self-actualized inside of a mass-produced craftsman home, set our sights on the suburbs. Sterilized cookie-cutter neighborhoods became the grounds for families to dwell, with perfectly groomed parks for us to picnic on fresh-trimmed grass. Those with greater aspirations flocked to cosmopolitan sprawls, themselves a reflection of the industrialized philosophy. We packed into crowded high rises and attended prestigious schools to earn our competitive edge, gaining the badge of academia’s approval to enter the workforce.
For all our amassed knowledge and efficient designs, our obsession with innovation fueling fierce competition to outstride our opponents, we are missing something fundamental. I’m not sure we can fully grasp an experiential concept like Kachou Fuugatsu. Our collective cultural inheritance gave us the lens of technology through which to see the world. It’s no wonder that we often crave to escape, but our ties to industry will sing in the back of our minds, an irresistible siren’s lullaby to return to our professions, lest we be left behind.
It belies a fundamental fear of the natural world, eternal in its cycle of decay and renewal. There is no wealth or achievement there, no ultimate actualization to be reached. Just the rhythm of your breath and the rustle of trees as they greet one another in a cool wind.
