By Zinat Moslemzadeh
At Aberdeen’s Music Hall, the room was already alive with quiet conversation as a group of women gathered in one corner, their voices soft against the echo of the hall. In the centre, three circles of chairs had been arranged on the floor, each surrounding a small, meaningful centrepiece; stones, flowers, a candle, or other natural objects chosen to evoke the more‑than‑human world. As more people arrived, the space filled with a gentle sense of anticipation. This gathering, part of Aberdeen Performing Arts’ ongoing Encounters with Our Changing World workshop series, was hosted by Mara Marxt Lewis, Creative Changemaker for Climate Action, together with her assistant Charlotte Gray, and supported by members of the local eco‑community.
The session opened with a curated selection of films. Dr Lourdes Parra presented three chapters – Roots, Thorns, and Essence – from her documentary on sacred plants filmed in Mexico. This was followed by Fly Amanita (David Fenster, 2010), introduced by Alejandra Rodriguez‑Remedi. During the welcome by Mara and Karina Emslie, a video created by Lou documenting We Are Nature Collective’s first walk to the Cairngorms played quietly in the background, setting the tone for a day centred on land, memory, and ecological connection.
After the screenings, participants were invited to gather around the three circles, each representing a stage of Joanna Macy’s Spiral: Gratitude / What We Love (Root), Honouring the Pain (Rupture), and Seeing with New & Ancient Eyes (Reimagining). Each round lasted ten minutes. As participants moved from one circle to the next, they were encouraged to carry with them a word, a feeling, or a story, allowing the conversation to ripple across the room and weave a shared emotional thread.
Circle 1, facilitated by Lou, focused on gratitude and the ways food connects us to memory, culture, and the Earth. Participants were asked to recall a meal, a taste, or a food tradition that felt like love. The conversation quickly became personal. One woman described how a dish she often ate in Scotland never tasted the same as it did in her home country, no matter how closely she followed the recipe. Another participant from Egypt spoke about growing dates in her family garden and how their scent instantly transported her back home. For some, food evoked belonging; for others, it stirred longing and loss. Yet all agreed that food carries stories – of family, of place, of the Earth itself.
A bell rang, and everyone rotated to the next circle. Circle 2, facilitated by Karina, centred on the ruptures within our food systems – climate disruption, injustice, and disconnection. Participants reflected on endangered plant species, the fear of losing traditional crops, and the importance of trusting nature. Some spoke about choosing organic food to avoid chemical interference; others admitted feeling guilty when eating meat or foods they believed might harm the environment. The conversation revealed how food is not only nourishment but also a mirror of global inequalities and ecological strain.
Circle 3, facilitated by Alejandra, invited participants to imagine new and ancient ways of relating to the Earth. The guiding question was simple but powerful: ‘What can we do – personally and collectively – to help the Earth?’ Participants shared grounded, practical ideas: reducing food waste, paying closer attention to what they buy, and treating food as a communal act rather than an individual one. Cooking and eating together, they suggested, could rebuild relationships with one another and with the land itself.
After completing the spiral, the group then formed one large circle with four chairs placed in the centre. Anyone who wished to speak could step forward and take a seat. The discussion began with the recognition that access to good food is deeply unequal across the world. One participant offered a striking metaphor: the human body is like soil, she said, and every food we eat carries its own potential to grow within us. Some foods act like medicine; others offer less nourishment. The metaphor lingered in the room, connecting the earlier conversations about land, memory, and care.
When the discussion ended, participants gathered around a long table filled with dishes from their home countries. There was soup made from vegetables people had in their kitchens, and fresh produce picked from personal gardens. The table became a small celebration of diversity, generosity, and shared experience.
In the final activity, Mara read her ‘letter to the soil’, a gentle reflection on gratitude and responsibility. This activity connected the workshop to the larger creative project Soil Love Letters: A Living Installation which will be exhibited at the Light the Blue Festival from 2–13 June. Participants were then invited to write their own letters using coloured pencils and paper. Some wrote, others painted, and many did both. Their letters will join the growing archive in June, extending the conversation beyond the walls of the Music Hall.
To close the day, the group walked to a nearby park, formed a circle, and listened as a community member read a poem by Mahmoud Darwish. The air was cool, and everyone stood quietly, absorbing the words, the moment, and the shared warmth of the gathering. The poem offered a final reminder of care and connection:
‘As you prepare your breakfast, think of others (Do not forget the pigeon’s food).’
And with that single line lingering in the air, the event came to a gentle, thoughtful close; everyone standing together, listening, feeling, and carrying the poem with them as they left.
