All in such a rush

With modern life, is it that we now have endless amounts to do in the same, finite amount of time? There seem no limits to all we could pursue as, potentially, we could be talking to every single person or showing interest in whatever it is they’ve decided to put out into the world. With all technology’s offering, there effectively seem to be no boundaries between us and all we could concern ourselves with.

In the past, there was presumably hardly any opportunity to do that? People might’ve been interested in a great many things, but those interests were probably curtailed by limited access to sources of information or means of communication. Perhaps those interests just dwelt in their hearts as impossible dreams and questions about life? This unrequited longing to know more, meet more people, and stretch beyond those limits.

It’s strange to think how much our lives have changed over the last century, in particular (Notes One). All the ways small scale, meaningful communities have branched out into this new, rather different set of realities. It sometimes seems the past’s a blissful place, simply for the fact most people didn’t bear this burden of choice – not being free to do more, you’d probably commit to working with what’s actually around you.

These days, by comparison, the horizon of our opportunities is so much wider. It must be hard to choose, to commit to any one thing, if doing so curtails the chance of choosing countless others. Almost paralysing, perhaps? If every step you take is echoed by thousands of others you therefore couldn’t, it’s almost as if we’re haunted by the very notion of choosing anything from the options we’re surrounded with.

How are we to focus if, every moment, there is so much we could be doing? So many conversations we could be having; choices we could be considering; situations we could be learning about; areas of knowledge we could be deepening or broadening out. The internet must be this completely limitless place being filled, moment by moment, with countless valuable perspectives and pieces of information.

Little wonder we’re so interested in multi-tasking, increasing efficiency, and ruthlessly cutting things out to make space for whatever our chosen focus is. Attention seems a naturally limited capacity, so “modern life” conceivably demands that we choose some things and ignore others – we simply cannot do it all or we’ll be spreading ourselves too thin.

That said, doesn’t all of it matter? We’re not, perhaps, saying, that whatever we don’t have time for isn’t important; just that we’re not prioritising it over and above whatever else has captured our interest. We’re simply recalibrating our concerns based around all these new things the world’s inserting into the basic format of “daily life”.

Couldn’t a lot of things easily get left out, though? All these pressing issues and entertaining voices drowning out other, quieter, more unassuming ideas, people or activities that, truly, might not deserve to be cut out of the modern conversation.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Things change, over time
Note 1: Detaching from the world around us
Note 1: Making things up as we go along
Note 1: What’s not essential
Note 1: Social starting points for modern ways
Note 1: Information as a thing, endlessly growing
Note 1: Life’s never been simpler…

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What is it with tone?

Something that often tends to bother me greatly is “tone”. Ultimately, I suppose it’s this sense of what words are coated with? All that surrounds them with extra weight or emotion. Doesn’t “all that” effectively change the meaning of our words themselves? Or, at least, place them within a broader context that can significantly impact what’s actually being said.

It’s something I’ve written about before (Note One), musing over this idea of words carrying only a small percentage of all that’s communicated between us. Body language, tone of voice and other social cues generally adding a great deal to the substance of our words. It’s fascinating, in many ways, because aren’t we all quite isolated within our own bodies, with only words to connect us?

Through language, don’t we reach out to establish common ground? This act of sharing our experiences, perspectives or feelings and, hopefully, having them received and acknowledge by others (Notes Two). Aren’t words the most efficient way of bridging our aloneness to feel connected, understood, accepted? Seeing ourselves within a greater sense of meaning and belonging.

That “words” might carry such a tiny portion of our meaning just seems so interesting. All this other “stuff” – how we’re holding ourselves; the sentiments expressed by our voice or delivery; the social gesture our statements are making; ways those around are responding, their concern or disinterest encouraging or making us feel more isolated from human companionship – potentially turning them into something quite different.

It seems like one of those areas where it’s tempting to think things are “easy”. That you can just string your words together and your intended meaning will happily follow them out and travel, unaltered, through the ears and into the mind of your recipient. But, in reality, it seems that journey is fraught with opportunity for your message to be misconstrued or get completely lost.

Which, thinking about it, is probably completely obvious. Much of life can be seen as filled with our failings or difficulties in communicating our true meaning to others – all the times things have been misunderstood or mistaken over the years. Don’t we generally hope to find common ground, yet struggle to get others to see life the same way?

Perhaps by “tone”, then, I’m meaning “all that’s not words”? All this other “human” stuff that wraps around them, their delivery and reception, adding whole new levels of significance. We might be completely unaware of all we’re sending along with our words, let alone what others might pick up on that makes “hearing” so difficult, but it’s still a reality whenever we communicate.

Given how it touches into all other areas of life, tone’s probably not an insignificant thing to be concerned about (Notes Three). That said, isn’t it often brushed aside as a particularly “female” preoccupation or over-sensitivity? Being attuned to life’s social or emotional nuance may not be valued as much as it could be (Notes Four), but more effective communication seems like something that could benefit us all.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Tone in public dialogue
Note 2: Conversation as revelation
Note 2: The power of understanding
Note 2: “People Skills”
Note 3: The difference humanity makes
Note 3: Information as a thing, endlessly growing
Note 3: Can others join you?
Note 3: What are we primed for?
Note 3: Effect, if everything’s a drama
Note 4: The beauty in home economics
Note 4: “Minding the Earth, Mending the World”
Note 4: “Women who run with the wolves”

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Culture as information

To what extent is culture simply information? A set of ideas about how to live, or a reflection of how we are living. Options for how to go about being human that come to life and play themselves out before us; so, hopefully, we can learn from what we see and decide for ourselves the path we’ll, individually, walk through the realities surrounding us.

It seems one way of conceiving of all that’s going on in this realm: a sort of mirror held up to life that shows us what the ideal is and how things are currently looking (Notes One). Perhaps, in the past, people focussed more on the “ideal”? Holding to the notion that there “is” a right way of living and culture’s the place we’re reminded of it. This idea of culture as an authority, an example, a standard, a rebuke.

Now, though, it seems we’ve rejected that perspective. Culture’s seeming more an exploration of “how things are”, with themes emerging about the state of society and choices people are making standing as a strange sort of example for how to live (Notes Two). As if, having discredited any form of authority, we’re now free to choose between all these other things that are offered.

It’s an interesting shift, as the first scenario is clearly quite controlling while the second gives us all an incredible amount of licence. It’s probably not that clean cut, though, there presumably still are sections of society attempting to control, influence or direct what we consider to be our options. Maybe it’s just a little more subtle and understated now.

At one extreme, don’t we find religion? Those stories that serve to shape entire worldviews by placing us all within wider, often cosmic, hidden realities where our choices all count for something. Higher-level beliefs that effectively inform every aspect of how people are living: the practices, values and priorities their lives will likely be structured around. This idea of there being deeper reason behind it all.

Doesn’t what we believe and focus on affect how we live? Shaping how we see people, the kinds of judgements we make, and which options we’ll consider acceptable. Furnishing us with the fundamental ideas, assumptions and attitudes we’re building our lives on each day, as we run all our choices through the filter of how we see things.

In that way, doesn’t culture effectively “inform” our lives? The ideas we entertain or have in mind coming together to form this sense we have of what life “is” and how to approach it – what matters, what doesn’t; which attitudes serve or hold you back; the things your community will judge or admire you over. All these stories generally telling us how we might live and where it might lead.

Where else do we get our ideas from? They presumably have to “come” from somewhere (Notes Three). And, if they’re subtly shaping how we’re responding to the world, this must be quite a powerful force within our lives.

Notes and References:

Note 1: What’s the idea with culture?
Note 1: Culture as a conversation across time
Note 2: Emotion and culture’s realities
Note 2: Any such thing as normal?
Note 2: Involvement in modern culture
Note 3: How ideas find their place in the world
Note 3: Going towards the unknown

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Freedom, responsibility & choice

In this world full of choices, where exactly do we stand? Are we the ones making choices, having choices made for us, or simply feeling the impacts of choices happening around us? The Western world, in particular, seems to be where a lot of choice is being offered – every single aspect of our lives apparently involving a whole raft of options for us to choose between. What are we making of it all?

Conceivably, it’s a pretty large burden: having to make so many decisions each day can’t be easy on the brain. Deciding between seemingly never-ending variations of quite similar things is perhaps a strange way to be using our minds; and it seems a little questionable where it might lead (Notes One). The chopping and changing between which options we prefer – plus, all the new ones arriving each day – could take up a lot of time.

Then there’s the way all these choices add up. There are presumably huge piles of discarded options somewhere on this planet: all the things we thought we wanted but didn’t; all that others thought we might want, but we didn’t; all we have to get rid of to make space for all the new things we now want. In every way, the fact we face so many choices must multiply up the consequences of all this.

We might, then, be enjoying the freedom of all this choice, but how responsible are we actually being here? If each thing we choose is but one option among many, do we then need multiple versions of each item to satisfy ourselves? Once we’ve made any decision, it almost seems inevitable we’d be thinking of all the options we didn’t choose – wishing we could have them as well.

Modern life seems strange in that we clearly love novelty – there seems an endless demand for more, newer or simply different options by which we might define ourselves or mark the passage of time. The human psyche apparently has an effortless appreciation for variation, beauty and innovation. Which is great, in many ways, but where will it end? (Notes Two)

While this applies quite clearly to the realm of “goods”, how much is it also relevant elsewhere? Flitting between one thing and the next, it sometimes seems we’re losing the capacity to focus on any one thing. Or, to comprehend the consequences of it all. Each thing passes in front of us, catching our eye and drawing up a response, and then it’s simply onto another. As soon as anything’s chosen it risks becoming redundant.

Given we live in a world of finite space, resources and time, how are we choosing to spend it all? How much that might really matter are we potentially losing sight of while distracted by the beauty of choice or burden of managing it? How many situations are we contributing to through all these choices? Creating ripples that become serious problems elsewhere. How responsible are we being with all this freedom we’re offered?

Notes and References:

Note 1: “Paradox of Choice”
Note 1: “Brave New World Revisited”
Note 1: The insatiable desire for more
Note 1: Is this the ultimate test?
Note 2: Detaching from the world around us
Note 2: What if solutions aren’t solutions?
Note 2: Meaning in a world of novelty
Note 2: What we create by patterns of behaviour
Note 2: Making ends meet

Thinking about all these things was also the focus of Too much responsibility?

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How much do intentions matter?

In the scheme of things, how much do our intentions actually matter? Given how often, somewhere between the birth of our idea and the place it reaches its target, things seem to go awry, does it matter what we meant if the results are quite different?

We could have the finest intentions yet still cause devastating consequences. People might give very little thought to things, but somehow create good outcomes. It’s interesting to consider how often these things might not carry through – getting lost somewhere along their way into the real world. It’s almost like there’s two realities: the ones in our heads and the one happening all around us.

Perhaps it’s similar to communication not being successful if our meaning’s not conveyed? We have these ideas, feelings and plans in our heads – all these thoughts about our understanding of life, our relationships within it, and how we’d like things to be – and somehow need to send them out there for others to hear, so they know where we’re coming from. How often does that work out perfectly? (Notes One)

Between the words we choose, way we’re communicating and countless other factors, the likelihood of our message getting across as we hope may be quite low. It just seems things get lost on the way. As if our words and intentions all get thrown out into the void of communal reality and tend to float there, getting misinterpreted or never quite becoming what we thought.

Maybe it’s simply that any act of communication – words or deeds – is fraught with strange, uncontrollable obstacles? There’s the clarity with which we understand our own ideas and motivations; the skill we’ve got in wrapping those thoughts with words and sharing them in ways others are able to receive; then the fact others may, from their own frame of reference, interpret our meaning or delivery quite differently.

Isn’t “reality” something we have to create shared agreement over? Everyone perhaps needing to interpret things the same way, if we’re to have just one conversation about it all. As things stand, it seems we’re often cherishing our own perspectives and fighting against those others are offering. If we’re always seeing things through our own eyes, assigning our own meaning, can we ever hear what others say?

It just seems that a lot of these things take work on both sides – this whole give and take of sharing reality. Working on clarifying our own understanding of life and motivation within it seems valuable. Developing our communication skills so others stand a better chance of hearing what we say seems a worthwhile use of time. Patiently finding new ways to convey what matters, even if others don’t see it, is probably important.

Because people’s intentions surely do matter? Our understanding, awareness, concern, and the kind of values we’re basing our lives on must count for a lot in the bigger scheme of things. Those qualities might be imperfectly delivered, expressed or executed, but surely it matters that they’re there?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Going towards the unknown
Note 1: Letting people change
Note 1: Frameworks of how we relate
Note 1: Authenticity & writing our own story
Note 1: Whether we make a difference

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EbbSpark & the value in thought

Writing for this site, I’ve tended to ask myself at these regular intervals where this is headed – checking in that things haven’t gone off track or wandered down some dark alley too removed from reality to be of use. Because, genuinely, I write as much for myself as any audience, as my way of trying to make sense of life and find the threads or pathways within it.

Perhaps it’s this notion of having a worldview? All the ideas, thoughts and beliefs we have in mind about the nature of reality and our place within it. This sense in which we all carry a world in our heads; one that may or may not relate that truthfully or helpfully to the one that’s actually around us.

It must “matter”, the ideas we have in mind. Doesn’t our pre-emptive sense of understanding, in a way, determine both what we’ll see and how we’ll interpret it? Our reactions or responses essentially flowing out of the way we’ve already learnt to see things. Responses that, in turn, presumably shape reality through the attitudes we cast back out there.

Isn’t it true that our presence in the world changes it? That everything arriving on our doorstep leaves, in some way, transformed through how we’ve interacted with it – every person, object or idea we come across having been treated with respectful interest or casual disregard, depending on how much we value all the experiences of life.

Do we realise that all we do matters? That every interaction speaks volumes about the values we hold dear, principles we’re bringing to life, and extent to which we care for everything in the world that’s not us. In a way, our lives can be seen as a reflection of our ideas: all we’ve learnt or been told, everything we’ve come to see as valuable, informing how we choose to be.

As thinking beings, isn’t thought the source of our independence? Our capacity to reason, remember, and form decisions effectively creating the foundation for our being in the world: we can know where we stand and, based on that, decide how we’ll live. Isn’t there incredible freedom and responsibility to being in charge of ourselves this way?

If the thoughts we have in mind – all the facts, figures, theories, sensitivities, assumptions – inform our choices for how to act, then don’t they matter a great deal? Approaching the world of thought with a sense that it might be a significant creative force in all our lives might be a strange way of looking at life, but, if it’s truly how things work, maybe it’s wise not to ignore it.

Which, coming back to my reflections on this writing project, reaches this point of wondering what exactly we’re doing here: how we’re using our powers for thought; how much we understand of life; and how well it’s working out in terms of the patterns emerging within modern society. If we believe it all matters, might that not make a considerable difference?

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Too much responsibility?

Talking about life and how we’re living it, the concept of responsibility comes up fairly often (Notes One), alongside that of freedom. What are we to make of all the freedom, all the choices, modern life’s laying at our feet? How much do we understand the meaning of each decision we’re faced with – where they may lead; all the social or environmental ramifications we’re setting in motion; the bigger picture everyone’s part of?

But then, is life now too overwhelming to be thinking that way? Between the relentless, often quite meaningless, demands for attention that form this constant tide of all that’s seeking to undermine our worth, agency or focus while locking us into predictable patterns of consumption, where are we to start exercising the responsibility of freedom? Maybe this much freedom’s simply too much to manage, in a way (Notes Two).

Much as we might care about all our disparate, important concerns, it also seems the paths for dealing with them aren’t quite there – that there’s simply not space, agreement or certainty over how best to address what we’re facing (Notes Three). Without tried and trusted courses of action, we presumably also carry the daunting burden of needing to “create” solutions.

How can we handle that level of freedom or responsibility? Who are we to turn to for wisdom, insight or guidance in charting a path through this modern landscape? So many of the voices speaking into our uncertainty seem to have other agendas nestled somewhere between the front and back of their minds about where things are headed or how they might benefit (Notes Four). Behind it all, where is reliable support to be found?

And, even if we were to become convinced of another way, can we just “drop” all this and do differently? Maybe we can. There’s certainly power to collective action; to ideas whose time has come and the people prepared to act in bringing them to life. Being sure of those ideas and the paths to their realisation seems so important, however. Choosing the right battles, the right stances to achieve our ends, doesn’t seem easy.

Sometimes it really just seems the responsibility of a modern life is potentially “too much” – that there’s too much wrong, too much that matters, too much well-meant advice for us to gain the focus needed to resolve it all. Simultaneously, that there’s too little time, space or clarity to pull all our many, valid concerns into any concerted form of response. Perhaps also, that we risk doing much harm while trying to do the right thing.

Is the challenge here to understand what it is to be human? The worth of all our lives, the value of our cooperation, and how that’s working itself out globally (Notes Five). Rising above ourselves to make good choices across the board, how much might the world change? In which case, once we’re convinced what we’re doing matters – holds value – maybe we’re simply right to persist until others can appreciate it too.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Responsibility in shaping this reality
Note 1: Passivity, or responsibility
Note 1: Questions around choice
Note 2: Life’s never been simpler…
Note 2: Making ends meet
Note 2: Is this the ultimate test?
Note 2: Things with life have to be maintained
Note 3: The value of a questioning attitude?
Note 3: Problems & the thought that created them
Note 3: What if solutions aren’t solutions?
Note 3: And, how much can we care?
Note 4: Trust within modern society
Note 4: Freedom, what to lean on & who to believe
Note 4: Which voice can we trust?
Note 4: Knowing who to trust
Note 5: Losing the sense of meaning
Note 5: Whether we make a difference
Note 5: Living as a form of art

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Whether we make a difference

In all of life, doesn’t everything we do matter? Everything, eventually, touching upon others through the words, thoughts or actions we’re choosing. Isn’t it all rippling out in every direction to become part of everyone’s lives? We might believe or feel we’re of little consequence; but, in reality, it’s so far from true.

We always make a difference. So, bringing full attention to those choices might dramatically change the realities we’re all living with. If, instead of carelessness or self-interest, we acted on compassion or love, wouldn’t that ripple out into the world? Potentially, sweeping others along with it.

It’s fascinating to consider the nature of reality: ways things join together in chains of causality or complacency; ways attitudes or actions spread so contagiously; how that might shift things one way or another (Notes One). It seems undeniable we all play a part in it; whether or not we’re being deliberate.

All we do serves as an example, a validation, an encouragement, a challenge – creating impacts and setting standards within our increasingly wide social environment. These days, where little remains hidden and everything’s interconnected, isn’t it time we awoke to that potential?

It can’t be easy making a difference, though. Waking up within these complex, fast-moving systems and trying to find our way within them must be breaking new ground? Where can we find proven ideas for how to broach this? No human ever having lived within these conditions, any strategies can’t actually be tried and tested (Notes Two).

And there’s so much to care about in this world; so many issues we’d rightly feel inspired to fight for. In every area there are important battles to be fought around “what it means to be human”. Modernity wraps its tendrils throughout our lives; challenging us to uphold what matters and discard whatever’s working against it.

Within that, living alongside one another can seem almost indescribably hard. While we might not always agree – often, over issues that truly do matter – could there still be space on the edges of us to accept others as they are while holding to those higher values or perspectives that may be needed? What do we achieve when we don’t make that space?

Tolerance may never be easy: allowing something we disagree with to exist in our presence, unchallenged. And, with choices said to define us, it’s perhaps inevitable our lines of identity become points of conflict: if self is on the line, it’s almost natural we’d attack the opposing ideas that threaten us (Notes Three).

Giving people space to work out their thoughts without insisting on our own begins to seem a surprisingly generous attitude. Especially when there’s so little time for hearing others out or discussing things in all their fullness – when we’re squeezing meaningful communication into stolen, passing moments.

Can life happen that way, or only this distracted, half-finished echo of it? So, while everything matters, carving out time or space – physically or psychologically – to do it justice sometimes seems an impossible task.

Notes and References:

Note 1: One thing leads to another
Note 1: All we want to do passes through community
Note 1: Is this the ultimate test?
Note 1: Questions around choice
Note 1: This thing called love
Note 2: Would we be right to insist?
Note 2: Imperfection as perfection?
Note 2: Problems & the thought that created them
Note 2: Doing the right thing, we erase consequences
Note 2: What if solutions aren’t solutions?
Note 3: Letting people change
Note 3: Education as a breaking away?
Note 3: Thoughts of idealism and intolerance
Note 3: Authenticity & writing our own story
Note 3: Making things up as we go along

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Beauty and wonder in nature

Isn’t nature quite simply incredible? All the innate intelligence and breath-taking beauty of its forms, formulations, colours, patterns and behaviours. The world’s offering this impressive picture of harmonious integration that, unfortunately, stands in fairly harsh contrast to our own way of being. Why is it we find such balance so difficult to achieve? Let alone the beauty.

It just seems truly amazing how much diversity, colour and innovation exists out there: the intense or subtle shades found in plants; the complex structures and gestures as each specimen charts its path to fruition; the strange, unspoken wisdom of creatures coexisting in seemingly perfect self-regulation. Being surrounded by such creativity is pretty astounding, really (Notes One).

It’s almost too easy to discount it all. To dissect, intervene, and gain all the knowledge we’d like without too much thought for what’s going on without our involvement. Nature’s beavering away at these blossoms with depths of colours we couldn’t imagine and animals with secret, interconnected lives we’re barely aware of. Beyond that, there’s the fact it’s cosmic realities and rhythms bringing it all to life.

Being encompassed, held, supported by living systems that aren’t only aesthetically but also scientifically valuable seems such an incredible place to call home. Nature’s formulas can help us treat diseases; develop materials that perfectly marry form and function; and feel humbled by all the lifeforms containing more effortless perfection than we can currently manage.

Doesn’t nature offer us – among many essential things – a wonderful example of how to live? It achieves this self-sustaining balance between its parts that’s not only highly productive but also too magnificent for words. Isn’t beauty all around us? In the weeds growing up through the sidewalks; the birds living out their dramas above our heads; the whales swimming deep through the oceans.

We might, quite casually, label this as “nature” and get on with our lives, but sometimes it seems so important to step back a little and see it for what it is. Aren’t we completely dependent on this? So much of our food, shelter, resources, comfort, and inspiration comes from nature – from the lapping waters, stately mountains, silent forests, streaming sunlight, and exquisite beauty of whatever flower’s blossoming on any given day.

All this goes into sustaining human existence; and, while we’re not the ones directing it, it’s nevertheless the foundation on which civilisations were built. Haven’t we generally drifted towards good access routes, reliable water sources, or the abundant raw materials we industriously turn to our advantage? Haven’t our lives, throughout all time, been constructed around and shaped by nature’s realities?

Is it foolish – childlike – to see things that way? To see life as a beautiful complexity that’s hard for the mind to grasp or ego to settle within. To view our position as both powerless and precarious: the humility of dependence and hubris of attempting to master it for ourselves (Notes Two). As if nature’s this amazing gift we’re still struggling to understand, relate to, and work alongside more respectfully.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Living as a form of art
Note 1: Aesthetic value of nature
Note 1: Nature tells a story, about the planet
Note 1: Humanity & creative instincts
Note 1: The real value of creativity?
Note 2: Nature speaks in many ways, do we listen?
Note 2: Having a sense for being alive
Note 2: Things with life have to be maintained
Note 2: Detaching from the world around us
Note 2: Intrinsic value of nature

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Places of belonging & acceptance

Of all the books in life, perhaps one of the most beautiful I’ve ever read or will read is “Eternal Echoes” by the late John O’Donohue – “Exploring our hunger to belong” and, in doing so, capturing the poetic essence of all it means to be human.

Isn’t it true that “Everyone longs for intimacy and dreams of a nest of belonging in which one is embraced, seen and loved”? Also, that “Each one of us journeys alone into this world – and each one of us carries a unique world within our hearts”? This sense that “Each of us brings something alive in the world that is unique” seems such a beautiful, fundamental truth to keep in mind and somehow build our lives around.

Because, as O’Donohue explored, “Cut off from others, we atrophy and turn in on ourselves… A sense of belonging, however, suggests warmth, understanding and embrace… Our hunger to belong is the longing to bridge the gulf that exists between isolation and intimacy.” I often wonder how many of our personal and collective problems in life are essentially communicative – this struggle to be heard (Notes One).

How can we bring remote, scattered or isolated people into an understanding of “life” that encompasses us all? Now that our systems and travel habits are unquestioningly global – much of what we’re doing impacting so many others across the world – how can we grasp those realities and keep everyone who’s affected by it firmly in mind? It seems what’s required, if we’re to see humanity as one circle of belonging (Notes Two).

As O’Donohue says, in relation to modern life, “Consumerism propels us towards an ever-more lonely and isolated existence” and “although technology pretends to unite us, more often than not all it delivers are simulated images that distance us from our lives.” Written slightly before the dramatic transformation those strands of modernity brought to our lives, it’s fascinating to consider how he might’ve described things today.

Given the many challenges we’re all facing within modern society, it seems so important to grasp the underlying sense of what it is to be human – what we truly need to feel our lives are valued, purposeful, meaningful in the eyes of others. Technology might well make our lives “easier”, but if that’s coming at the cost of true understanding and connectedness it seems a high price to pay (Notes Three).

In reality, every sentence of this book deserves to be quoted; which seems to imply it’s simply a wonderful reflection of the value of our inner lives, the validity of our struggles, and the importance of grasping (and, holding onto) what makes us human. Then, ensuring that those essential qualities aren’t allowed to just be swept away or misdirected within all the fast-moving insistence of modern living (Notes Four).

Seeing life in terms of dislocated souls seeking belonging might make sense of many things; so, I really couldn’t recommend this book more highly for offering a fresh, beautiful, yet powerful perspective on our existence.

Notes and References:

“Eternal Echoes. Exploring our hunger to belong” by John O’Donohue, (Bantam Books, GB), 2000 (originally 1998).

Note 1: Going towards the unknown
Note 1: Does being alone amplify things?
Note 2: True relationship within society?
Note 2: Do we know what stands before us?
Note 2: What it is to be human
Note 3: Trust in technology?
Note 3: The insatiable desire for more
Note 3: Detaching from the world around us
Note 3: Is this the ultimate test?
Note 4: Overwhelm and resignation
Note 4: Society that doesn’t deal with the soul
Note 4: Losing the sense of meaning

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