Lately, I’ve been reading about Finnish mythology, folk beliefs, and history from centuries ago. The same enthusiasm struck me last fall. I suppose it’s the darkening evenings, the ghostly mist drifting over the river, and the complete silence of nature that inspire me to delve into tales and beliefs from ages past. There’s an endless well of inspiration and lessons to be drawn from them.

I came across a topic that stuck with me and deeply resonated. It answered a question I’ve often wondered: why hasn’t material culture or objects from Finnish history survived in the same way they have in Southern European cultures or Egypt, where we know so much about their history through rich and valuable artifacts?

Why do we know so little about Finnish culture, and why haven’t we preserved objects to tell the stories of our ancestors?

Because our history, our culture, has never been in things or material possessions.

Our culture and our home have always been in nature.

Centuries ago, historians of the time traveled to the north, marveling at how Finns managed with so little—without many possessions, permanent settlements, or wealth.

We are a people of the forest, fells, winter, and wilderness. We live and move beneath the starry sky, taking from nature only what we need, being part of its cycle.

Nature, and especially the forest, has been our home. Our culture is rooted in our forests.

We have survived for thousands of years at the mercy of the northern wilderness, in extreme conditions. We have honored the gifts from nature that sustain our lives. Hunters took care to respect the souls of the animals they killed, ensuring they could continue their journey from this realm to the next. They gave thanks for the animal’s sacrifice, allowing us to continue our existence. The animal's body was treated with reverence.

I wish it were still this way. It saddens me to see the endless cycle of our consumer culture. By July, we’ve already exhausted the resources meant to last the entire year. What farmer from the old days would consume their year’s supply of food by July and live the rest of the year on debt? Most people would surely understand that this is a fast track to ruin.

Nature is not a place to visit. It is our home. I believe that even though some of us live in cities now, nature is never far away—at least not spiritually.

When we go into the forest, it feels like coming home. Everyone feels that peace that settles in the mind and body when surrounded by trees. Far from the noise and the bustle of the city. Some part of us remembers our history and cultural heritage from the time when the forest was our only home.

Let’s take good care of our homes—the one where we sleep and the one we return to when life in the usual circles becomes too much.

With love for the forest,
♥ Sanna