On Identity

Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness. (Hermann Hesse)

The notion of identity is tied to qualities that remain stable over time despite changing outer circumstances. A personal motivation to start working on this series was to get in closer touch with my own identity — distilling the ideas, beliefs, and principles that I feel the highest conviction about in terms of progress and good human conduct.


Recently, I was asked to choose an emoji that best describes me. Knowing that my counterpart had chosen a rocket, I intuitively picked a tree.
After living at the fringe of a forest for a while, I started to admire this simple form of being:


A tree is deeply aware of its necessities and dependencies — knowing that it is fragile in isolation and far better off living within the ecosystem of a diverse forest. It offers shelter to others and draws only what it modestly needs, sustaining itself without taking more than its fair share.


A tree understands its place within the forest as a higher-order collective: It does not stand apart as an isolated entity, but finds its true strength and purpose in serving the whole, knowing that the health of the forest is inseparable from its own.


A tree remains distinctly itself — unique in its shape, growth pattern and history. It does not require separation or dominance, its individuality rather shines through its specific role in the ecosystem.


A tree is self-sufficient: It does not seek power, does not crave admiration, and is not driven by the need to impress. It simply grows, stands, and fulfills its role without demanding attention or recognition.


A tree shows a quiet wisdom in its long-term thinking: It grows slowly, anchors itself deeply, and remains part of a living system.


A tree embodies resilience: It endures storms, bends without breaking, and even when wounded, returns over time to its original form — slowly healing, regrowing, and reasserting its place in the forest.


When dying, a tree ensures it leaves a legacy: It enriches the ground so its siblings and descendants can flourish, and in falling, it passes on its wisdom to the forest that remains.