The first Wandering - some reflections

The first World of Liesbet Wandering brought together a small but wonderfully diverse group of people.

Some had travelled only a few kilometres.

Others had come from much farther away.

Different cities.

Different backgrounds.

Different reasons for showing up.

What we shared was simple curiosity:

what happens when a group of people decide to walk together without a plan?

Topics of discussion went into many different directions.

Apparently, the famous 65-year threshold for retirement age was originally set at a time when life expectancy was barely higher than that. In other words, retirement was never meant to last decades.

Two frogs — or maybe they were toads — enthusiastically continuing the circle of life next to the path somehow triggered a surprisingly philosophical detour about monogamy and polygamy.

At one point we even found ourselves discussing risk analyses. The kind of work that often feels repetitive or uninspiring — until you remember that the reason those analyses exist is because they quietly prevent accidents and save lives. Which made it slightly ironic that someone had temporarily abandoned that very task to join a wandering walk — and had perhaps rediscovered a bit of meaning in it along the way.

We also talked about something more concerning: the surprisingly large number of households that are still not connected to the sewage system. One of those facts that quietly makes you pause and wonder what exactly we are doing with our planet.

Two topics, however, deserve a bit more attention in this reflection.

S+T+ARTS

The first was S+T+ARTS.

S+T+ARTS stands for Science, Technology and Arts, an initiative supported by the European Commission.

The idea behind it is that meaningful innovation often happens at the intersection of disciplines.

When scientists, technologists and artists start looking at the same challenges together, they often see possibilities that would otherwise remain invisible.

You can explore the initiative here:https://www.starts.eu

As someone working in digital health and system innovation, this resonated strongly with me.

Healthcare systems are incredibly complex. Sometimes highly technical approaches alone are not enough to rethink them.

Artists, on the other hand, are trained to question assumptions, explore alternative perspectives and make invisible dynamics visible.

Talking about this while walking through nature suddenly made the idea feel much more tangible: collaborating more closely with artists to rethink digital transformation in healthcare.

It is something I definitely want to explore further in the coming months.

Artisan’s – Store of Stories

The second conversation that stayed with me revolved around a project called Artisan’s – Store of Stories.

https://www.discover-artisans.com

Artisan’s was created by two people (one of whom joined the wandering 😉) who left their corporate careers to build something very different: a place where creators from around the world can share meaningful products and the stories behind them.

Their vision is not just a shop.

It is a space built around connection and storytelling. A place where objects carry social, ecological or cultural meaning, and where the people behind those creations have a platform to share their story.

For example,iIn some regions, conservation groups remove poaching traps from forests to protect wildlife. But if those traps are simply thrown away, poachers often return, collect them, and reuse them. Some initiatives have therefore taken a different approach.

Instead of discarding the traps, the metal is transformed into jewellery — bracelets, necklaces and other small objects. By turning the traps into something beautiful, they are permanently removed from circulation while also telling the story behind them.

Objects that once caused harm become objects that raise awareness.

It was a powerful example of how creativity and storytelling can change the meaning of something entirely.

Listening to the project,I found the idea deeply inspiring.

In a world that often moves fast and focuses on efficiency, places like this create room for something else: curiosity, creativity and human connection.

And perhaps, in the future, it might even become a place where new wanderings could start or end.

Before the walk, I had worried about one thing.

That people might feel uncomfortable.

That they might expect something from me.

That the wandering would somehow require effort to make it work.

Instead, the opposite happened.

People came simply to walk.

No expectations.

And the conversations emerged on their own.

Which, in hindsight, is probably exactly what wandering is supposed to do.

Create space.

For ideas.

For connection.

For unexpected conversations.

If this first wandering taught me anything, it is this:

You don’t need a programme to have meaningful conversations.

Sometimes you just need a path,

a few curious humans,

and the willingness to see where the walk takes you.

And perhaps something else too.

My nervous system learned something that day:

that I am safe,

even when organising things that might initially feel a little unconventional.

And that realisation gives me courage.

The courage to keep experimenting.

And to organise the next wandering.