I’m finding my favorite ideas and writings are coming from of questions from people I know, or met here on Substack. For example,
asked me about Kerla Curry and that sent me on a whole tangent on coconuts in the ecosystem and how they helped create curries. Its one of my favorite pieces now.Once Stephen King said, when your writing think of your Ideal Reader. Depending on the tone or scale sometimes it helps me to imagine one person. Sometimes I am speaking to the ghost of Bourdain or maybe a descendant not yet born. So when I am asked a question it feels like an invitation to dive in and fully express and explore a topic. Point is, I really enjoy comments and questions and where these rabbit holes take me.
Recently, someone said to me “I don’t know my place, or what I should do.” I took a second and thought about how these days I know exactly my place and what I should do. I have a sense of purpose and I am fortunate, lucky to have found it in my 30s.
Which begs the question, how did I get here from being so lost for 15+ years? I think as cliche as it might seem - I let myself get very lost for a long time before I saw the shape of where I belong. Then I started asking, well how do other animals find their place? Admittedly, it was after watching The Lion King spin off Mufasa with my friends recently over a bucket of KFC that made me think about the circle of life. Same Same.
So, this one is to the lovely French lady I met in Mexico City singing on a rooftop while drinking tequila. I hope some of the lessons from these animals help you like they did for me.
Touch and Our Containers
Goldfish grow according to the size of their bowl, suggesting they can sense the edges of their container. But what if that container were a vast pond? Surely, there’s a limit to how large a goldfish can grow—yet I wonder if humans operate the same way. A child who grows up in the mountains has much more space to imagine than one stuck in an apartment while their parents go to work. We feel the edges and expand based on the boundaries set by institutions and those we impose on ourselves.
We grow only to the size of our conditions and a child whose world knows no bounds may creates humans who are limitless. Then again, by that logic, somewhere out there, in some enormous pond, swims a very big goldfish. See the Pisces constellation?
Stillness & Vibration
Elephants detect vibrations through their padded feet, which may explain their profound stillness. Their "gentle giant" nature comes not just from their movements but from their ability to feel the world beneath them. They know where they are based on their feet, a mental map of the immediate surrounds at all times based on vibrations. Like the roots of a mighty tree woven through soil over centuries. They are walking trees. Ok maybe that’s a stretch but sometimes trees and elephants FEEL the same to me.
Humans, usually confined in shoes can reconnect with the earth when we walk barefoot—feeling the ground, the pulse of a place. Sand between toes on the beach or standing on a boulders warmed by the Sun. You can close your eyes and know exactly where you are through your feet. That might not apply to everyone, some people really like their shoes, yet still, a subwoofer vibrating a dance floor is felt through those shoes too. Ive met some people in my life who I consider grounded, like they stand in one spot and are undisturbed. A quiet knowing that they belong right where they stand. Like a tree.
Sound & Echo
Bats navigate the dark through echolocation, emitting frequencies inaudible to us, listening as sound bounces back to shape their world. Amidst a cacophony of noise, they move with precision. Musicians must feel the same on stage—each note flowing into the next, vibrations coloring the sonic landscape. The cheers, the applause, a kick or snare from the drummer, even a lone bird’s whistle—all are echoes returning, affirming their place in that moment.
Whales sing the most complex songs on Earth. Though their language remains a mystery, we now know their calls travel across oceans, weaving stories that connect pods over vast distances. Scuba divers in Hawaii hear their haunting melodies, each one unique. Humans, too, fill the world with music—countless songs, instruments giving voice to the emotions locked in our hearts. To sing or play is to shape time and space itself, an act of cosmic navigation rifting off the big bang.
Scent & Memory
Dogs have lived alongside us for millennia, yet we’re only beginning to grasp the depth of their olfactory (smelling) world. They detect fear, illness, a single thread in a building, or survivors buried in rubble. Compared to them, our sense of smell is like an old black-and-white TV next to their 8K omnidirectional perception.
Pigs, with even sharper noses, unearth truffles—delicacies hidden beneath the earth. They love them and we love them for it. For humans, scent is tied to memory: lavender transports a friend to the French countryside; copal resin, when burned, carries me back to Mexico. Smell is a bridge to the past, a gift we’ve refined over centuries.
Sight & Perspective
Hawks and eagles see with unmatched clarity, spotting prey from dizzying heights before diving with precision. Now, humans peer down from satellites, mapping jungles and dirt roads from space. Our vision stretches from the cosmic to the microscopic—yet even in darkness, leopards outshine us. Still, lack of sight never stopped Stevie Wonder.
In the digital age, our eyes are everywhere—capturing wars, heroism, beauty, and ruin. We consume images endlessly, shaping our understanding of place and purpose. I almost feel like the more we see only with our eyes the more confused our bodies are. Sure does look like a real wave on an ocean on your VR headsets, as your body is wondering why no sea salt smell or sun-kissed shoulders.
Taste & Place
Snails and lobsters taste the ground beneath them, mapping their world through flavor. Similarly, a taste of home can transport a traveler across time and distance. Give a French Pastry Chef a Croissant from Mexico and she may have a strong opinions about its existence. Why didn’t this send her back to Lyon? Perhaps a poorly done pastry to her is like being given a plane ticket home only to find out its actually to a different country.
Unlike other creatures, we aren’t bound by what’s given—we cultivate crops, craft cuisines, and terraform landscapes to suit our hunger. Or maybe snails and lobsters are just not as picky. Still, our menus span every language, every culture—an insatiable appetite for connection.
The Human Experience
To be human is to stretch all of our senses to the edges of our container. We listen to whale songs, gaze from space, savor centuries of culinary tradition its overwhelming and incredibly beautiful to be human.
When you’re unsure where you are, place a hand on your heart and breathe. Feel your pulse; let your senses fill-in the space around you. You are designed to find your mold, no matter the conditions.
It’s like singing karaoke on a rooftop in Mexico City—your voice carrying into the night, meeting the ears of a stranger. In that moment, you think: I am here. My song is heard. My voice is seen. And in her gaze, you wonder: What does she see?
So sing loud, like bats finding their way in the dark. Taste deeply, letting flavors teleport you through time. Savor the gift of being human. Society shouts about purpose, but belonging isn’t about becoming. It is not Human Becoming it is Human Being.
I am really enjoying your writing Johnny and I especially love the images you created for this piece.
This is a really lovely piece!
I didn’t know most of those snippets about animals and how they hear/feel/taste the world around them.
You know how they say you can hear the same thing at different times and it impacts you totally differently? I’ve heard the thing about goldfish, but for some reason it really impacted me this time around. Thank you for this ❤️