I wonder how the idea for The Eden Project was formed? Perhaps sitting by the sea in a lovely Cornish pub, and imagining a greenhouse that was so huge it could handle hundreds of thousands of visitors, that could educate about our impact on the environment in a fun and interesting way. I wonder who came up with the giant bubbles mushrooming spectacularly, out of the earth?

An interesting thing happened during a wander through the oppressive humidity of the Mediterranean biome; I found myself getting really, really angry. At the arrogance and laziness of our western world. In the humid, sticky sauna of the tropical world, complete with towering palms and a waterfall. Between shacks assembled from coca-cola cans, plastic containers, rubber tyres and old tarpaulin, the Eden Project tells the stories of bananas, sugar, coffee and bamboo. And their related politics of cash crops, slavery and subsidies. And yet Eden is such a hopeful place.

So across the rolling hills and country lanes, through the moss covered stone walls and with the sea crashing against the cliffs below, we have allowed ourselves to imagine what we could do. What we could change. What our futures might involve. How we can effect change, and success in our quest to embrace a not-so-ordinary life. And there is inspiration everywhere.

Plans are a shaping…

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