Discovering Our Spatial Identity
The visual representation of an Absolute Identity System (AIS), encompassed by a Spatial Identity
Updated February 5th, 2025
Imagine a cell, its structure a microcosm of interdependence. Within it, smaller elements exist, interconnected yet distinct, each contributing to the vitality of the whole. This serves as a metaphor for our Absolute Identity Structure (AIS): a foundational identity that contains all others. Our AIS shapes how we perceive and interact with the world, acting as both lens and filtration system for synthesizing meaning. Ram Dass once illustrated this idea by saying, “When I was bald, I was viewing the world with a ‘bald and not-bald’ filter. I was comparing my baldness with everyone else’s un-baldness.” Such filters often become intrinsic to our identities, shaped by past experiences, internal struggles, and external roles. These identities can broadly be categorized as either temporal or spatial.
Temporal identities arise from concepts created by the human mind. They may define individuals through affiliations with towns, cities, nations, occupations, or roles: “I am a New Yorker,” “I am a Canadian,” or “I am a lawyer.” While these identities provide structure and a sense of belonging, they are inherently fragile. Consider the case of a Canadian lawyer who identifies foremost as “a Canadian lawyer.” If the concept of Canada were to vanish, the chain of identity would unravel—no Canada, no Canadian lawyers, no legal institutions tied to that nation. This collapse of identity can lead to existential crises, leaving individuals in a state of hyper-arousal as they grapple with the question: Who am I?
Temporal identities, though useful, are ultimately constructs. They lack the grounding of a tangible connection to the natural world, making them vulnerable to dissolution. When we tether our AIS to temporal concepts, we risk building on unstable foundations.
In contrast, spatial identities anchor individuals and communities in the physical and natural world. These identities emerge from a shared connection to specific landscapes and the phenomena they encompass. The Tšilhqot’in people, for instance, hold an identity that translates to “People of the Glacier-Rock River” in our language. This identity is deeply rooted in the land, water, and ecosystems—elements that can be seen, touched, and experienced directly.
The concept of NENQAYNI, meaning “People or Person of the Land” in the Tšilhqot’in language, exemplifies this connection. It transcends differences in skin color, gender, or background, focusing instead on an individual’s relationship to the natural world. Unlike temporal identities, spatial identities are far less susceptible to erasure; they endure as long as the natural phenomena they are tied to remain.
Spatially-identified societies carry invaluable wisdom, particularly as the world faces environmental and existential crises. Organizations like NENQAYNI, an Indigenous-founded and led nonprofit, aim to uplift and engage with these communities. Their initiatives—including international cultural exchanges, on-the-land educational curricula, and artistic ventures such as filmmaking and literature—seek to revitalize and share the principles of spatial identity. By fostering a deeper connection to the land and its ecosystems, these efforts create a secure foundation upon which other identities can be layered.
Spatial identities also provide a buffer against existential uncertainty. When one’s absolute identity is rooted in the natural world, shifts in occupations or social roles become less destabilizing. A lawyer, a filmmaker, or a community leader can undergo transitions without losing their core sense of self, as their AIS remains grounded in their connection to their surrounding ecosystem.
As we navigate a planetary transition in consciousness, the question arises: Who should steward the waters of change? Should we continue to rely on the temporal societies and institutions that created many of today’s challenges, or should we turn to the last remaining spatially-identified societies for guidance? The Tšilhqot’in and many, many, many other Indigenous cultures offer a model of resilience and sustainability for our collective future. Their spatial identities, rooted in tangible relationships with the earth, provide lessons for building more secure and enduring structures of identity.
Emerging intentional communities in places like Costa Rica, Mexico, Colombia, Brazil, and the Philippines are beginning to embrace these principles. By adopting or learning from spatial identities, we can nurture a relationship with the natural world that generates lasting cultural and ecological impact. This shift could wash away the clutter of purely conceptual identities, allowing us to rebuild on foundations as timeless and enduring as the landscapes themselves.
Temporal identities, while functional, are constructs that can falter in the face of change. Spatial identities, on the other hand, offer a resilient framework grounded in the natural world (‘nexwenen’ - our land in Tsilhqot’in).
By honoring and learning from spatially-identified societies, we have the opportunity to reconnect with the earth, redefine our AIS, and forge a more sustainable and harmonious path forward. As the world looks toward solutions for the future, perhaps the answer lies not in building new concepts, but in rediscovering the ancient and enduring wisdom of the land.
Trevor Mack