Money as a pivot of matter & intention

I’m not an economist, but find the idea of money as this point where needs or desires and capacities meet to be quite interesting; a sort of point of flow as humans act within their environment to fulfil their needs. It’s something I’ve discussed a few times here, leading to questions I find fascinating around sustainability and consumption (see Notes One). Whether our systems lead to wise courses of action for the future of humanity is surely a beautiful but challenging reality.

Because it really seems money is this symbol, this abstraction that ultimately just represents something and serves a purpose in life. As I spoke of in I am not just a sum, we might look at life and human existence from a purely economic perspective or also in the light of other values.

These days the economic stance seems to be winning out as we think in terms of markets matching resources to demands (creating or inflating them where they’re lacking); this basic model of human activity as needs being matched with products and ingenuity. Which is what it is: we have needs – be they personal, societal, planetary – and economic activity is this way of organising to meet them and sustain society in a way.

Although, how many of our ‘needs’ are genuine as opposed to stemming from psychological or social insecurity or the suggestions of marketing or modern culture? Are we in fact being drawn in by our very human inclinations toward status and security, maybe acting on greed or opportunity rather than taking only what we need then directing resources elsewhere?

Does the market really get to decide “what gets done”? Whether that’s what we’re offered as products; the environmental or ethical standards involved; the cultural, social or psychological messages accompanying it all; or the bigger picture we’re creating on a global scale.

Going back to money as a point of intention, these systems – emerging out of certain ideas and evolving into the activities we see today – essentially attempt to meet our needs out of limited resources: this flow of human life, of known or imagined needs and solutions, and the forms that developed to embody those functions. How wise that is, how conscious, and how controllable seem almost impossible questions to ask.

Ideally, I suppose, systems would be filled with people aware of what constitutes wise action for the long-term fulfilment of needs for the entire human community. Ideally there would be a sense of responsibility there, and both the intentions of organisations and those they seek to cultivate within their customers would be balanced in every sense.

If that’s not the case, where can wisdom and responsibility arise? If the system is to be market-based, where can such intentions bring themselves to bear? Clearly that could arise through regulation, but it’s also possible through conscious engagement and examination of our own motives and the wider impacts of our actions. The question of who solves our problems may be down to each one of us.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The motivation of money
Note 1: Is sustainable design an impossibility?
Note 1: Values and the economic
Note 1: How many things are cycles (we could break)

“New Renaissance” is one of many books that attempt to come to terms with reworking and bringing more meaning to our communities.

Ways to share this:

I am not just a sum

The idea of human worth and how we value our lives or the contributions we make has come up a few times already (see Notes One), and seems quite fundamental to how we view life and one another: is money (and all it brings) what really matters most, or is there more to life than that?

In many scenarios we can either look to the financial value and cost of things or give weight to other concerns (Note Two). We can look purely to the economics and the ‘certainty’ that may seem to offer, making that the overriding method of assessment, or set other priorities and maybe even assign greater value to them. And, as in that post, I wonder how much wisdom can come from an economic reckoning.

To my mind, money is but one way of assessing worth and doesn’t necessarily say anything that valuable or definitive; it tells a certain story, but that mightn’t be the most interesting or insightful story to hear about a person (Note Three).

Surely economic realities just range somewhere on the spectrum between excessive and maybe undeserved wealth or poverty, then a middle ground where people generally stand a reasonable chance of progressing somewhat from their starting point. Essentially, that money makes money and those without that foundation tend to struggle much more to gain a footing in that realm.

Of course reality’s more complex than that, as many factors and systems support these things: education, background, existing structures, cultural representations, lingering social preconceptions, so many subtle influences seem to shape and reinforce how society functions. In many ways all that seems like a dense web of often subconscious or unexamined ideas that maintain and preserve ‘how things are’.

And, in a sense, life can be reduced to numbers; it’s undeniably one way of looking and evaluating how things are going, and that’s certainly useful in a certain light. But where do we draw the line and place the equally (if not more) important human face on the picture we’ve created? For me the problem arises when that ‘other side’ is left out or downplayed, when we don’t seek to appreciate the realities behind the figures (Notes Four).

Because, while there’s an economic side to everyone’s life and work, I’m not sure it deserves all the weight it currently carries. As, generally speaking, there doesn’t always seem much correlation between financial worth and other important qualities. It’s great when these do align, but often incredible strength of character and human spirit can be found in unexpected places and lacking in others.

So while we are all economic beings in a way, we’re undeniably also human and social beings; with all our systems and beliefs placing us in relation to one another. And all the time ‘our worth’ is aligned predominantly with money then attempting to rework our imperfect systems becomes problematic. Finding ways to give voice to those other values, experiences and perspectives might be difficult, but could also be quite life-affirming.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The value of each human being
Note 1: Learning to be human
Note 2: Values and the economic
Note 3: Intrinsic worth over social identity
Note 4: Morality and modern thought
Note 4: Reality as a sense check

Ways to share this:

Spirit as the invisible

Recently I wrote about “The Spirit of Community”, with spirit in that context essentially referring to the ideas, principles, values and meanings woven behind the understanding of community and how that might affect everyday actions, systems and organisations. And that seems a reasonably workable starting point for talking about spirit.

It’s a topic I’ve touched upon a few times in looking at spiritual literature and modern attitudes (see Notes One); and it seems important in that all our actions ultimately sit within our understanding of what life is about.

In a way, any system of ideas must rest on a sense of what can be seen and what cannot: modern secular theories generally asserting that only what’s physically perceptible holds meaning; while any other belief system holds up an understanding of a deeper reality. Accounting for what cannot be known by sight – whether through faith or disbelief – effectively then creating the ground for our existence.

The post about the meaning of beauty explored how we prize external appearances: those obvious, measurable qualities some are born with or others might buy. Which often seems the clearest voice within modern culture, but also questionable in terms of what matters most: appearances can be deceptive, can essentially be bought, and often seem to run counter to the development of character. And a system of meaning based on nothing but the physical must also be subject to changes resulting from time, fate, or revised standards.

All of which strays slightly from the point, but only to raise questions around the values of a material philosophy. Because it seems non-belief discredits so much, leaving little space for the appreciation of many things that make us human and make life worth living. Things like kindness, love, inner beauty, compassion, courage, sacrifice, perseverance have little value in a world that talks only of profit or gain.

Of course, secular reasoning offers that illusion of certainty which allows us to step forward confidently into the unknown without the burden of other considerations. But to my mind that kind of reasoning is just as much a matter of faith as any other: one path is a faith that something greater is there; the other is faith that nothing is.

Writings on Education spoke of how modern thinking arose and informs the ways we understand and live our lives; connecting everything together around its basic assumptions. Ideas about the limitations of knowledge were the products of intense cultural debate, but now seem to be accepted and defended with a much more casual frame of mind; which is interesting, for something so fundamental.

Fascinating as all that is in terms of thought and reality, my main question here is whether it’s possible to have an intellectual framework incorporating both faith and reason: where the denial of deeper meaning can stand alongside faith, rather than seeing it as a lesser form of intelligence. Because really it seems that the absence or presence of such meaning all forms part of the same conversation.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The ideas of Eckhart Tolle
Note 1: Mindfulness, antidote to life or way of being
Note 1: What do we see in beauty?
Note 1: Spiritually committed literature

“Towards a New World View” discusses further the idea of developing our belief systems and engaging in wider conversations.

Ways to share this:

Missing something with modern culture?

Thoughts on culture and how well it’s serving us – given its roots in notions of tending and cultivation – have come up a few times so far (see Notes One); and interest me to the extent that the ideas we entertain and behaviour we embrace seem to really shape society and how we understand our roles within it.

Do our cultural ideas supply us with wisdom, both individually and collectively, for how we choose to live? Do they provide a meaningful, coherent picture of life and uplift us with ideas for how to be, what to work towards, and ways to overcome modern challenges? Is that even what we’re looking for, or is it enough to be entertained or stimulated by some more-or-less finely executed projects?

Looking back to culture in the past, it seems there was meaning there: information about society, its structures and standards, its preoccupations or difficulties, and the patterns of behaviour within and between different groups. In relating themselves to and working through these cultural representations individuals could come to understand their place and their times. Maybe that was constrictive, maybe it was led by some and imposed upon others; but it appears there was a focus, a code, and a general arc to the story.

So, does culture need to do that: sustain society with its ideas and the ensuing conversations? Do the stories, characters, values, and themes contained within cultural forms matter? It seems we know they do in a way, because we speak of representation and role models and we question the impact of certain content on impressionable members of society.

Beyond that discussion of content and intention, there also seems a shift in personal involvement: whereas cultural life was once participatory (thinking of dances, music and singing) and each was part of a more-or-less organised whole; these days it’s often consumed in relative isolation with the whole generally praising the individual. That may or may not be important, but it’s an interesting difference.

It could raise the question of whether we create this social culture through our involvement, or if it’s enough to observe and discuss the work of others. Is this to be an exclusive industry of experts, or a more inclusive and joyful activity? There must be place for both, although they are fundamentally different.

Then recently traditional authority has been waning while the means for market-based popularity has grown; leaving this ground where cultural ideas can tread their own paths and attract a following. So rather than the reins being held very tightly, there’s now this ‘democratic’ culture with little overarching direction as to what the messages are and where they may lead.

In essence, there seems to be a conversational element to culture: there’s what we make of it, what our participation creates, and what it in turn makes of us. And, as with anything that operates as a market, there’s this tension between production and consumption. Finding a healthy balance and direction within that seems a fascinating challenge.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The value of art in society
Note 1: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 1: Romance, love & the movies
Note 1: Complicity and cultural attitudes
Note 1: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 1: Spiritually committed literature

Ways to share this:

“The Spirit of Community”

Ideas around society, its structures and ideals, and how it’s working out are topics touched on previously (see Notes One), but here I’ll revisit them in the light of “The Spirit of Community” by Amitai Etzioni. While I’ve only begun reading it at this point, so much seems pertinent to situations we’re currently facing.

Etzioni begins by discussing the “urgent need to rebuild a sense of personal and social responsibility, a sense that we are not only entitled but also must serve, that the individual good is deeply intertwined with the needs of the common good”. And in terms of achieving such a thing, it’s noted that “to change a society’s course one must focus on changing the habits of the heart, on a grand dialogue in which people come together to agree upon a new direction”; as anything imposed without agreement seems destined to fail.

Which is, in a way, profound yet also self-evident: society is composed of individuals, but without a common sense of togetherness and purpose it’s surely a tricky reality to hold together.

Talking of the basic give and take of existence, Etzioni highlights people’s “tendency … to claim rights for themselves and to leave responsibilities to the government”; whereas these effectively go hand in hand. In a sense, our rights are limited by our coexistence: what we take, we take from others; and what we give upholds collective systems. For the moment, society mainly quantifies this financially; but we could take a wider view of “responsibility to our moral, social, and political environment”.

Questions of social morality are interesting to explore; little having stepped in to replace religion or tradition. Not to say the constrictive aspects of those forces didn’t need reworking, but to abandon any concept of moral sense seems a bold step and a difficult reality to navigate (Notes Two).

It’s then suggested that “individuals’ consciences are neither inborn nor – for most people – self-enforcing. We gain our initial moral commitments as new members of a community into which we are born. Later, as we mature, we hone our individualized versions out of the social values that have been transmitted to us.” Connected to which, the “only way the moral integrity of a society can be preserved is for most of the people, most of the time, to abide by their commitments voluntarily”

Placing morality as an essential foundation for society is interesting, and reiterates the importance of how we pass on those values that serve both individuals and society; whether that’s through family, community, culture, or formal education (Notes Three).

This is a book I’ll return to, as it approaches social responsibility in wonderfully detailed and practical ways: ideas around responsive communities and acting in consideration of others seem so relevant now and spill across boundaries between family, relationships, work practices, and public life. Given the interrelated nature of society and the importance of achieving or maintaining meaningful cohesion, a broad discussion of this nature does seem to be a sensible way forward.

Notes and References:

“The Spirit of Community” by Amitai Etzioni, (Fontana Press, London UK), 1993

Note 1: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 1: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 2: Laws and lawlessness
Note 2: Antisocial behaviour & the young
Note 3: Need to stand alone & think for ourselves
Note 3: Learning to be human

Ways to share this:

Gardening as therapy, the dark

I wrote recently about the lighter side of gardening: about intentions, vision and perseverance as a metaphor for life (see Note One); tying into a wider discussion around our environments and our inclination to invest in them (Notes Two). And that seems to be the bigger picture: how we live within more or less well-executed ideas and must find ways to deal with that; hopefully creating something better from it all (Notes Three).

In that context, maintenance and problem-solving are almost as essential as vision. We might have our hopes and dreams, plans for what we wish to create; but we must also face up to areas weakened by neglect or threatened by insidious weeds. Whether we talk of opportunities and threats, the good and the bad, dreams and disasters, it’s this sense that challenges must often be overcome.

And maybe that’s where both hard work and satisfaction come in: that, through vigilance and effort, we might eradicate a problem or at least let a plant be reinvigorated by a successful season. And, in doing so, we might inspire others by showing that actions pay off and make a real difference to what’s possible in the world.

Because – in gardens as in life – this more often than not seems to be our situation these days: ideas, visions or intentions slightly lost within reality. Distracted by the countless pressures of modern life, gardens become a place for cars and low-maintenance relaxation; while many become more obvious areas of disengagement or disinterest.

If we don’t have a vision, does neglect matter? It almost inevitably makes it more difficult to cultivate that space in the future: soil is deprived of nutrients, weeds settle in, and wildlife tends to depart. And, once that becomes the norm, whole areas can fall into this feeling that appearances and actions don’t really matter; often a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Which is where I find nature to be such an interesting metaphor for life: whatever our intentions, our understanding and engagement are what shape reality. The strength of our vision must surely guide our actions, attitudes and commitment toward everyday life. Those things we tend and nurture are what grow most strongly; while those problems we chip away at and replace with better options become weaker by the day.

Really I see fewer metaphors offering greater resonance with human existence. And the idea that we live by stories we tell ourselves is fascinating, whether we talk in terms of films and fiction or more linguistically (see below); that sense that we’re naturally imaginative thinkers and motivated by compelling imagery about life.

For me, nature and particularly gardening are powerful in that way: the ideas and habits we plant and subconsciously tend; the signs of neglect or misunderstanding that take time to redress; the daily effort and vigilance required to make a lasting impact; the living resilience and optimism of nature itself; and the intrinsic reward of seeing life and beauty emerge. Surely there’s hope there, and faith for the future.

Notes and References:

“Metaphors We Live By” by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, (University of Chicago, USA), 2003 (originally 1980)

Note 1: Gardening as therapy, the light
Note 2: Nature tells a story, about society
Note 2: Real estate, rental and human nature
Note 3: Writings on Education
Note 3: Living the dream

What makes a good life also spoke more generally about finding paths between the light and dark in life.

Ways to share this:

Learning to be human

What does it mean to be human? In many ways we’re all living, breathing responses to that question as we find our own paths through life. But the question of how we learn to do so may be simpler to answer.

Clearly there’s education itself, which I’ve spoken of a few times already (see Notes One); then, alongside that, the influences of family, community, society, culture and so on. All these encounters surely shape our ideas, our sense of what matters and how we should act, our picture of what life’s about and how it all works.

What I find interesting is how conscious and coherent those messages are. Are we pulling ourselves in different directions, entertaining contradictory standards and expectations; or are these voices all more or less on the same page?

As touched upon in the posts mentioned above, there’s this sense that education serves society and particularly the economy: imparting essential skills and knowledge for young people to take their place in the workforce, as well as general attitudes that will hopefully sustain a stable way of life. Which has its place and makes sense in terms of government provision, but is it enough?

With life, issues of authenticity or self-actualisation must also deserve consideration: how are we best able to be ourselves, draw on our talents, and overcome our challenges? That hesitation over whether we are simply cogs in a machine, or if there’s more to life and what we’re able to offer it by our presence.

While our personal journeys are shaped by living within society (Notes Two), surely our participation in it also matters as our attitudes and contributions to community and society in turn shape the realities we share. Our feeling of fairness, ethics and the value of life undoubtedly impacts all that we do; becoming the face we turn to others and the actions we choose to engage in.

So where do we draw the line as to what matters most at the end of the day? Of course economic realities matter, both individually and collectively, but so does the bigger picture of what we’re doing and why (Notes Three); the forming of which must come from education itself or from those other influences that surround and contextualise it.

Beyond economics and education for basic social cohesion, what values are we upholding and imparting in how we live? Could formal learning dovetail better with other areas so families, communities and social realities work more harmoniously together? Could our cultural reference points serve us better with the standards, narratives and meanings they offer society to live by?

And how can all those threads even be drawn together? Maybe that’s why this post has drifted into the territory of question marks: the answers are down to us. Being human and learning to do it well seems to rest within the social communities we create and how we organise them; which I suppose means we must collectively chart that path, or individually find our way.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Education’s place within Society
Note 1: Economics and the task of education
Note 2: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 2: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 3: The motivation of money
Note 3: Values and the economic

Need to stand alone & think for ourselves also considered that last question of individual or collective convictions, in a slightly different light.

Ways to share this:

Gardening as therapy, the light

It’s been a while now since I wrote of nature (see Notes One), so here I want to look again at what it offers us.

Occasionally, reports crop up articulating nature’s value for managing our inner lives (example below); suggesting that our disconnection from the natural world might be contributing to other mental, physical or social ills. And, while it’s interesting to see such ‘ancient wisdom’ re-emerging through the scientific lens, I wonder if there’s more to it than just the soothing experience of natural scenery: whether therapeutic value arises more from its inner truths.

With gardening, in a really practical sense, what we do matters: within the walls of a garden, our intentions can be nursed to fruition. Whatever we want to achieve, if we know the environment and the plants we wish to bring into it then we can create something and that something will create ripples into the world that surrounds us.

There’s truth to the climate, the seasons, and the positioning that allows or blocks light to certain areas. Also to the soil and whether it’s rich with potential, or more exhausted of that which might give rise to life. Then the wisdom of our choices and the consistency with which we tend them: if we plant the wrong thing, it may never grow or thrive; if we misunderstand its needs, it’s probably not going to work as we’d hoped.

In doing this, we place ourselves within our environment with our vision, our knowledge and our actions. We have to understand what we’re trying to achieve and that understanding should filter into what we do. We need to be responsive to changes in the weather and the seasons, as well as to threats within the ecosystem.

There’s real beauty to all of that: the vision, the presence of mind, the purposeful application of knowledge, the alertness to signs within the environment, the tuning into natural rhythms. And it’s an intensely personal creative endeavour: you imagine what you want there to be; you make it happen; and, when it does, you know it was your cooperation with nature that brought it about.

On a vast scale that becomes truly impressive. That people had the vision, foresight, commitment, and patience to plant saplings that would one day become a varied and stately parkland amazes me. Many people must have never lived to see what they imagined to be worthwhile, which is surely testament to their faith in its ultimate value.

And, taking therapy as the relieving or healing of disorder, all that must trickle down to our feeling of engagement with life: that seasons come and go, intentions may be realised or prove themselves mistaken, but behind it all there’s this truth and beauty to what’s been possible. That’s often immensely valuable and heart-warming to those involved; but also for those who take in the results, aware as they may or may not be of the thought, hope and perseverance that went into it all behind the scenes.

Notes and References:

Guardian article on links between nature, depression and overall health

Note 1: Natural World
Note 1: Living the dream
Note 1: Nature tells a story, about society

Leading on from this, there’s Gardening as therapy, the dark

Ways to share this:

What inspires all of this

Having started this writing project with only a relatively loose sense of where it was headed, it’s an interesting question to revisit.

Modern life is challenging in many ways: full of divergent opinions, careless realities, and struggles for meaning or worth (see Notes One). And it seems to me that the way we think about that and engage with it might really make a difference (Notes Two).

In a way, life is thought: everything around us and everything we do carries meaning and generally arose out of thinking. Especially now, as modern society lifts us above the rawer realities of living, offering a more abstract experience of our dependence on environment, community and commonly held ideas. So much seems hidden and remote, whether we talk of economics, culture or technology.

What I mean by that is that meanings seem concealed below the surface. All we do still has an impact on the planet, social environment, and the collective realities we sustain. We can uncover the consequences of our attitudes and actions if we wish to, and those that do often attempt to raise awareness around their particular cause.

Within that picture, do individuals and their actions matter? Is human life of absolute value or is that relative to where we live, what we own, how we look? Is there common ground to our existence or are we destined to disagree?

Our interconnected systems surely rely upon a system of thought and depend upon our collective involvement. Those systems contain within them a sense of human worth and of what’s important, essential or justifiable. To look at culture, do we agree with the messages it sends and the pictures it places within our imaginations? And what options are open to us if we don’t like where things are headed?

Some might labour under the realities they’re placed within; some may throw themselves into trying to make things better (for themselves, others, or the system as a whole); and some could feel the whole thing is mistaken and opt out through resignation, escapism, or more extreme alternatives.

And what ideas are we being offered? On one side there’s this picture of efficiency, profit and human redundancy; yet others cry out for human values, social cohesion and environmental wisdom (Notes Three). Is there a common vision there and, if not, could we find one and can it be built?

Getting back to the original question, surely we are intelligent creatures capable of understanding the systems we exist within, how they arose, and where they’re likely to lead. We can know in thought the realities we’re living. That thinking might tie us in knots at times or lead us into difficult places, but it’s also what makes us human.

While we might despair at the lack of humanity or meaning evident in our times, that itself seems an important message concerning the need to build our systems around the right values and create a collective conversation that better sustains what’s truly essential in life.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Reality as a sense check
Note 1: Mental health relative to modern times
Note 2: Education’s place within society
Note 2: Morality and modern thought
Note 3: Anger as a voice
Note 3: Need to stand alone & think for ourselves
Note 3: People wanting change

Ways to share this:

Spiritually committed literature

With literature, it seems reasonably valid to separate off what might be termed as modern fables: stories that speak of the mystery of life and our sense of personal destiny; exploring the mythology of self as a being that dreams and seeks a path of truth and meaning within the everyday.

I’m thinking of people like Richard Bach or Paulo Coelho among others. Writers who touch upon these inner spaces of faith or hope or magical thinking where so many try to find purpose and meaning for their lives through a sense of existence containing reason and our personal realities forming part of that bigger picture. Stories of everyday heroes, where individual struggles carry wisdom and actions make a difference.

Bach’s tale of a seagull seeking to be all it can be, believing there’s more to life than the traditions of the flock is one such example. The choice between following the ideas of those around you and silencing your inner voice: “He felt better for his decision to be just another one of the flock. There would be no ties now to the force that had driven him to learn, there would be no more challenge and no more failure.”

Which is similar to Coelho’s Alchemist: “you are trying to realize your destiny. And you are at the point where you’re about to give it all up.” Pictures of a life full of inner mystery, omens, following your heart, and learning from the wisdom of your life and from interactions with others. Essentially, coming to trust yourself and walk your own path.

Or there’s The Little Prince with “here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” A book offering a re-evaluation of life, of what matters, of how we see things, and the important relationships of feeling and meaning we create.

Building on that idea of personal perspective, Bach’s “Hypnotizing Maria” investigates ways belief governs experiences: “How do we become part of any culture, any form of life, save by accepting its suggestions to be our truth?” It’s a more unsettling book, as it attempts to separate the self from the thoughts we hold as true; but seems valuable for doing so.

Mitch Albom’s writings also fit here, as he explores those encounters that shape us and our ideas; casting an eye over life to see what might really matter at the end of the day, and whether it’s the hidden and unappreciated things that truly changed our lives.

Within modern culture, these books stand out as seeking something more. Historically, culture seems to have offered such wisdom yet now acts slightly differently (Notes One); so where can we find greater meaning for life? There’s spirituality itself (Notes Two), then the stories we receive through culture and society; where, at times, ideas on life merge with fiction to ask what it might mean to move beyond our belief in limitations.

Notes and References:

“Jonathan Livingston Seagull” by Richard Bach, (Turnstone Press, UK), 1972

“The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho, (HarperCollins, UK), 1995 (originally 1988)

“The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, (Penguin Books, UK), 1971 (originally 1945)

“Hypnotizing Maria” by Richard Bach, (Hampton Roads, USA), 2009

“The Five People You Meet in Heaven” by Mitch Albom, (TimeWarner, UK), 2003

Note 1: The value of art in society
Note 1: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 2: Spirituality since the 80s
Note 2: The ideas of Eckhart Tolle

Ways to share this: