Social narratives are not always congruent with the reality of things. So when we meet people like Brigid and Mattias, there’s a deep breath of sanity that runs through and showers us with a deep innate feeling of being alive.
I’ve been having a running thought in my mind about how to include sanity in my outward life, or how to show those in my immediate life what there is to know, more than it has been shown, or feels allowed to them. From dealing with decades with living in a not-so-healthy environment and finally being able to live my dream now, and start creating my own opportunities, meeting Brigid and her smile and sweet eyes of those who already breathe the-happened-change, is far-reaching into the depths of my fears into an open conclusion about the future we are building together.
After watching the film, I felt everything was already said in it. I didn’t have questions, I just wanted to know the dynamics between them and understand how to transpose that dynamism to a written text that shows how much clarity there is in living life the way life truly shows herself to us. Always beautiful, sometimes confusing, and an epiphany-giver after some dwelling on what it all means.
I felt the tenseness of first meeting someone dissipated when we started an honest and friendly dialogue of those who know what type of change needs to occur and how to make that happen, so the conversation could’ve gone on for hours on end if Mattias didn’t say “Hey guys, I need to leave in 10 minutes”.
I only asked them about what’s behind the passion of both doing films such as the Campfire Stories films, particularly this one, and what’s the passion behind living this way. I honestly felt that they were not good enough questions, but I did and do want the film to speak for itself, and to get to know them a bit better instead of the usual convo of the interviewer of a filmmaker and its “study subject” that bothers me so much.
Mattias spoke of exploration, such as intuitive guidance to the answers that he seeks to film. That something as seemingly small as the wanting to learn more about pickles opened a door to one of the most heartfelt documentaries about this subject I’ve ever seen. He spoke about their connection and the learning that takes place when people meet, and I find that this truly human connection transposes perfectly in the film — there is an acuity of being present and knowing how to be. This intuitive guidance that started with Mattias meeting Brigid out of trying to know how to make pickles turns out to translate perfectly what true regeneration means, by connecting first and exploring intuitively until there is some sort of flow of epiphanies and the learning how to be in life.
I somewhat feel that what I’ve spoken in my last 50 articles, could’ve been reduced to a mere two hundred words on Into the Soil and Mattias and Brigid.
I was truly excited to speak to Brigid, and I somewhat felt a little girl trying to ask the why’s of the world to a grown-up, I couldn’t utter actual questions, because as Brigid started speaking about her life, immediately there was a sense of flow in relation, meaning I didn’t want to ask questions anymore, I was drawn to the act of conversation and finding that beautiful meeting ground.
She said something in our conversation that I don’t think I’ll forget. She said that in her life she witnesses the “coming of life”, and I think that is one of the most beautiful ways to describe what we participate in, whatever the facet of regeneration we take part in. The coming of life for me as a spectator of Into the Soil is how the inherent natural culture of what being human means, is directly experienced as some sort of magical constant transformation that, as Brigid said, the key to it is not having a fixed destination. We just keep going, and going, and going, and participating the best we can. As the Earth revolves and creates alongside us and through us.
There is a sweetness to this film. A kind of genuinity that is not only honest as it is imperishable. I was drawn to it like a participant, not as a spectator or a mere critic. There is nothing to criticize. The sweetness I’m talking about is the inherent goodness of what it means to be human.
The wholeness of the film speaks to us about all we discuss in our gatherings and is like a lightbulb of “hey, look at this” that left me in tears when watching the film.
When we watch a film, speaking here as a filmmaker myself, I find the passing of images and the soundscape, alongside the narration of the documentary tone, can sometimes lead us to a sort of manipulation of the senses. In this case, I felt drawn in, it sparked my curiosity and my innate childish joy to be a living being. That sort of feeling is very rare in any documentary or film.
If you follow my work as a writer you know I often draw parallels into my own life, like bridges to cross into getting to certain types of mutual understanding. Here, I can only say that what I was looking for, to transpose and be clear about, what the actual future holds and what we are all building together, it’s all in this film.
So, all I have to say as a reviewer is, watch it, allow yourself to be tearful like I was, and let’s grow together like leaves, allowing the bees to rest on us, in our communities breaths, and in our blood flowing alongside the rivers. Let us count the blessings and rest on knowing that we are the future happened.
The link here, Into the Soil. Be sure to donate to Campfire Stories if you can.