Author: admin

The idea of think globally, act locally

What “is” the best way of approaching life? Getting stuck into what’s around us or shifting out to gain perspective on issues affecting us all? In light of how, with greater or lesser awareness, all that we do feeds into complex global systems, whether we’re focussing on the immediate or the remote seems a pertinent question.

In practical terms, our agency’s perhaps most effective within our immediate environment. There, we operate within very real communities where our words and choices offer a living example of the impacts we’re all making (Notes One). How we live day to day, the attitudes and values we’re bringing to bear, paints a clear picture of what we see as important.

But then, without a sense for the bigger picture – ways all those actions form part of larger systems with impacts felt around the planet – we surely risk ploughing on in damaging ways, claiming we didn’t know. If we don’t think on the global scale, stretching our imagination to encompass the rippling consequences of accumulated small-scale choices, we’re perhaps not quite taking full responsibility for our lives.

Presumably, though, that’s a fairly recent way of thinking? Before the widespread application of modern technology, our choices likely didn’t create such coordinated impacts and, equally, we didn’t have the means to know of global trends and realities. Such awareness can only have arisen alongside all the processes of Western globalisation that began setting things up to work this way.

It’s intriguing how in the last hundred years or so the world’s been wrapped around by these ways of operating that, effectively, link all our lives into this very intimate, powerful, responsive web of interrelationships. Decisions made locally, by every household, feeding into social trends that bear extremely real consequences for communities, industries and ways of life in completely different areas of the globe.

That’s a lot to get our heads around as we go about our daily lives. On top of all the ways “modern life” is straining our own communities and relationships, it’s tying our actions into this almost-unimaginable set of realities we’re arguably also responsible for. It must be a completely new way to be human? And, potentially, completely overwhelming (Notes Two).

As an idea, then, “think globally, act locally” seems a great framework for awareness and agency: understanding what our choices feed into, we can begin operating intentionally on that level; seeing the importance of community-based actions, we can behave more deliberately there. Knowing we make a difference – that, despite time or distance, it all adds up – seems a powerfully realistic perspective on life.

But how manageable is this? Every choice weighed down with global ramifications, every area of life becoming a context for debate or action, seems a recipe for overwhelm. Who’s ready to bring acute awareness to every aspect of their existence? It’s the human mind turned inside out, seeing itself as part of a planetary whole. It’s a lot to take in. But it’s also the world we’re now living in.

Notes and References:

Note 1: “The Spirit of Community”
Note 1: All we want to do passes through community
Note 1: Passivity, or responsibility
Note 1: Invisible ties
Note 2: One thing leads to another
Note 2: Matt Haig’s “Notes on a Nervous Planet”
Note 2: Does anything exist in isolation?
Note 2: How important is real life?
Note 2: And, how much can we care?

Another post looking at how the scope of our ideas might inform everyday living was The sense of having a worldview.

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Where do ideas of evolution leave us?

Looking at life as a battle for survival can sometimes seem like a strange mentality. It’s this picture of combat, competition, advantage, elbowing others out the way so they don’t get what we need. Developing ourselves to stand out and play our cards right so we make it through. Is it really the only way to be human?

Of course, it’s sensible to play to your strengths. As an individual, it’s our most obvious contribution, easiest path and likeliest shot at “success”. In community, each offering their best card must give society its strongest hand for progress and competitiveness. As if “life” is putting together your best team then playing against others to see who comes out on top.

It’s one way of looking at things. Arguably quite a “masculine” one, as opposed to the cooperative, nurturing perspective most generally characterised as “female”. Not wishing to light the fire under debates around gender, Western society’s evidently been leaning fairly heavily in one direction over recent times (Notes One).

Where does it all lead? Into a world where expressing sensitivity, hesitancy or doubt over the wisdom of modern ways is seen as weakness, while brute force or cold calculation often seem to “win”? To the place of “this is how things are”, “everyone’s doing it”, “we can’t stand back as they get ahead”, or “who’s going to stop me?”. This sense of playing the game using whatever means are available. (Notes Two)

Is this the universe we live in? A place where he who dares, wins. Where there’s no right or wrong, only “what works”. Life as this battleground of everyone striving to get ahead and look after their own – pushing limited interests into the collective space of humanity? Those who make the best of it, the most money or security for themselves, ending up in charge? Safety in numbers and all that.

In a way, perhaps it’s “true”. “If” we conceive of everyone as “different”: belonging to different groups, owning different assets, having something to gain or lose. “If” we look at life expecting to see “a winner” and wanting to be on that winning side; the one pulling strings, holding cards, able to get all it wants while making others accept its terms, values and power.

“If” we split humanity into us and them, perhaps dominance begins to seem “justifiable”? But, “can” we split humanity up? How can we look at another person or community and decide our interests come before theirs? Yet it’s effectively what many decisions amount to: wanting something, taking it, reshaping environmental, social and political realities as we go (Notes Three).

What’s the narrative here? Can we be human if we don’t see others as such? Have we really learnt so little from the past? As ever, these are genuine questions: what exactly are we saying by living this way? We might well argue over evolution from the scientific or spiritual perspective, but, beyond that, where does this thinking leave us from the human standpoint?

Notes and References:

Note 1: “Women who run with the wolves”
Note 1: “Minding the Earth, Mending the World”
Note 1: The beauty in home economics
Note 2: Tell we why I should
Note 2: “The Measure of a Man”
Note 2: Matt Haig’s “Notes on a Nervous Planet”
Note 3: The sense of having a worldview
Note 3: “Quest for a Moral Compass”
Note 3: Economy as a battleground
Note 3: Invisible ties

As a counterpoint to this, there’s always This thing called love.

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Personal archaeology

Living our lives, we inevitably accumulate “history”. Every little thing leaves its mark, creating ripples we cannot hope to control. All that shapes us, becoming the experiences that inform our thinking, the wounds that hurt when we think they’ll be touched, the grooves of how we engage with life.

It’s as if this imperfect world imprints itself upon us in youth, leaving many things we might spend a lifetime trying to iron out. Because, realistically, no one’s perfect. Much as we might hope to be, our knowledge is generally incomplete. We try our best, but life’s a complex reality to master.

And we all knock into one another. One person’s suffering often becomes another’s too. Limited perspectives can effectively negate another’s being. Whenever we’re acting out of imperfect understanding we surely risk impacting those around us? Offhand comments can lodge in another’s psyche to become truths they’ll live by – small, seemingly insignificant, perhaps thoughtless words or gestures taking on a life of their own.

While we might have the finest intentions, the accumulated impact of countless interactions can cause problems. Personal opinions and preferences can echo in other minds as “how things should be”. It’s this strange, invisible world of formative experiences: things that loom large in our past, casting shadows over what follows.

In a way, it’s simply “life” – people doing their best and all of us living through the consequences. If we knew more, we’d do differently, but, in reality, what’s done cannot be undone.

It’s true of society, of family, of culture, education and friendships. They shape us. In differing measure and with varying levels of deliberation, but, nonetheless, they combine to make us who we became (Notes One). I’m not saying that, beneath all that, there’s not an innate sense of self also playing its part, but the faces life turns toward us carry great weight.

What are we supposed to do with that? How, as well as living increasingly complex lives, are we to excavate such a past? And, even if we do, does it help? Is there meaning to be found in uncovering the truth of our journey, the things that defined us, the arc of our personal history? Will we be able to “let it go” or do we risk becoming trapped within this powerless world of our own making? (Notes Two)

It’s the stuff of psychology, of therapists. This army of professionals following us round, helping us make sense of life. It’s important work. “Getting on with life” while carrying along unprocessed, unreleased issues can be a recipe for disaster. We’re unlikely to live our best life crumpled up that way.

Taking hold of yourself, really understanding how you are, is perhaps invaluable for life. People who’ve done such “work” can become powerful, compassionate members of society. We’d likely have healthier relationships and not fall prey to those seeing opportunity in wounds and weaknesses. True strength and wisdom might well be gained from understanding our past, if we’re prepared to go there.

Notes and References:

Some of the many beautiful books dealing with this aspect of life are those by Don Miguel Ruiz, including “The Mastery of Love” (Amber-Allen, California; 1999) and “The Four Agreements” (Amber-Allen, California; 1997).

Note 1: One thing leads to another
Note 1: Culture as what we relate to
Note 1: All we want to do passes through community
Note 1: The world we’re living in
Note 1: What you’re left with
Note 2: This thing called love
Note 2: Does being alone amplify things?
Note 2: Absolute or relative value
Note 2: Do we need meaning?
Note 2: Love of self

In a similar vein to all this, Doing the right thing, we erase consequences looked at the challenge of fully understanding “life”.

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The world we’re living in

It’s almost strange how, as humans, we so quickly grow into capable, intelligent, independent beings navigating the undeniably complex world around us with innocent confidence. We come into this world and immediately find ourselves within the weird machinations of modern society, all it offers or forces on us.

Children, in a way, are so trusting: whatever’s around them, they’re curious, accepting, and want to make it theirs. They’re essentially jumping into life, pulling it apart, excited to find what’s here. We submerge ourselves in what’s around us, using it to develop our understanding and discover ourselves.

It’s a given; we accept it and trust it holds meaning. Adults wouldn’t occupy a meaningless world then leave us to navigate it unmediated. We must be “right” to trust that if there’s something we needed to know about all this, then we’d be told. That truth would be conveyed to life’s new members.

Except, what if it’s not? What if we’re mainly living unexamined lives of quiet desperation, to merge the words of Socrates and Thoreau? Ourselves trusting that there’s greater wisdom and concern within society’s modern structures than there might indeed be. What if we’re entrusting our lives mistakenly? (Notes One)

Of course, society isn’t really a choice. There’s not a contract we consciously sign and its terms are effectively a little vague, subject to interpretation, and evolving alongside the battles of society itself (Notes Two). Yet that’s the environment we live within, where we find our options and our meanings.

Which, I suppose, is why we also now live in a world of activism? Seeing the false meanings, the damaging outworking, the flawed application of perhaps fine-sounding theories, people cry out in indignation at the way we – humans – are being treated and the wider fallout of this world we’re creating.

If we’ve lost faith in social structures and those in positions of power, how else are we to respond? If we see money stepping over other ways of valuing “life”, it’s surely right we don’t simply stand by and let that happen. How to go about affecting widespread systemic change isn’t easy to answer.

And adults trusted, too. Isn’t it that wool’s been pulled over almost everyone’s eyes? Coming to see you might’ve been mistaken – let alone deceived – is almost inevitably confronting: it’s this sense of having to admit to flawed judgement, perception, understanding. It’s hard to question yourself on that level (Notes Three).

Where am I going with this? Perhaps, that we’re all, in our own ways, waking up to how the social world around us isn’t what we might’ve believed, hoped, or been told. Some, of course, may have always doubted; others might’ve woven their lives very closely into it.

Questioning reality and your place within it is never going to be easy. Accepting imperfection, discerning deliberate from unintended harm, letting people and systems emerge from a flawed past, surely demands clarity, courage and compassion? Rebuilding around the values we’d hoped were there all along is a big task.

Notes and References:

Note 1: One thing leads to another
Note 1: Trust in technology?
Note 1: Stories that bind us
Note 2: In the deep end…
Note 2: Contracts, social or commercial
Note 2: Problems & the thought that created them
Note 2: “Quest for a Moral Compass”
Note 3: The value of a questioning attitude?
Note 3: Right to question and decide
Note 3: Do we know what we’re doing?

Related to all of this, there’s also The difference humanity makes.

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All we want to do passes through community

It’s fascinating to think how change happens. All the ways we’re consciously or subconsciously acting that, over time, become patterns of behaviour we barely even recognise as a choice. We’re so habitual: all that we do or have seen done a certain way drifting, perhaps unexamined, into our own way of being.

Thinking of life as accumulated actions, it’s amazing to imagine the inertia of all we’ve picked up over the years. The way all that comes together into ‘how we do things’ and, often, ‘who we are’. Lessons from youth and those around us becoming this unique conglomeration of disparate actions, beliefs and attitudes.

And, really, who’s examined all the things they do? All the words, gestures and assumptions. The implications of a billion unspoken choices. Is there reason behind it all? Was there ever? And, ultimately, does it matter how we’re going about things?

It’s apparently something we just pass on – families handing on habits or traditions; teachers imparting their version of wisdom; society setting its examples through media, culture and everyday life. Life seems to be the human community, in its various guises, showing others the way to be (Notes One). Directly or indirectly, intentionally or inadvertently, wisely or thoughtlessly setting all these standards.

There’s clearly this social side to life: living within a community of peers, we either go along with or stand against things. In so many subtle ways we affirm, judge, praise, criticise, condemn, shame or encourage one another. It’s a powerful social tool for regulating behaviour; many perhaps hesitating to question what they might’ve picked up this way.

This being the case, can we ever just wake up and do differently? There’ll be resistance. In many ways, the world expects something from us; often, that we stay the same. Predictable, reliable people who can be trusted to act a given way. Not to say there’s no value in consistency, but where’s the room for growth?

It’s just interesting. As, really, whose ideas are perfect? Where do all the seemingly insignificant things we’ve picked up during the course of life come from? All these statements and interpretations of life’s meaning essentially become the idea we have of life and how to live it (Notes Two); yet what is this cobbled-together picture and does it make sense as a whole?

And, if we’re to admit that big chunks of this might be poorly thought-out theories or distorted messages from others’ youth, education, thought or experience, where does that leave us? Should we insist upon it? Do we hold others back from questioning or changing, given how pulling at even one thread admits to the notion of more being mistaken? Does the watchful commentary of others hold us back?

Because, truly, anything we do in life has to be navigated socially. Collective habits can serve as powerful deterrents or incentives. And, personally or systemically, if things have to shift then that surely involves some process of reflection, adjustment, and the tolerance of allowing people to change?

Notes and References:

Note 1: What you’re left with
Note 1: Old meets new, sharing insight
Note 1: Able to see what matters?
Note 1: The way to be
Note 2: One thing leads to another
Note 2: Do we need meaning?
Note 2: Culture as what we relate to
Note 2: Making adjustments

Another post that considered progress and the idea of moving forward was Problems & the thought that created them.

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“Living Beautifully” by Pema Chödrön

In the past, I’ve been reticent about the reworking of mindfulness or other traditional practices for the modern world – the way whole bodies of understanding and context are snipped away, leaving neatly-packaged techniques for the Western marketplace. This idea of discarding the bigger picture of a spiritual mindset to offer products without the inconvenience of depth.

Perhaps it’s only to be expected though? Living in a society that’s dismissed any form of “belief” as unreasonable, there’s likely no room for bringing full systems of it back in to help us manage the psychology of living (Notes One). Maybe it’s only natural the West look around for specific activities that can soothe troubled minds and help us meet the world with a calmer, more compassionate sense of self.

Within all that, Pema Chodron does a wonderful job of making Buddhist thinking accessible and relevant without losing the greater sense of where these practices “sit” within that spiritual context. This stance of standing deep within her tradition, yet speaking in a way people can approach and gain something from without having to ‘go there’.

It’s as if she’s created a room on the edges of Buddhist thought where modern minds can enter, hear useful perspectives, and receive effective strategies for managing our lives. Without undermining the fact there’s ‘more to it’, she’s offering something our hearts and minds seem to need: “Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change”, although written in 2012, could hardly be more relevant to current times (Notes Two).

The basic premise is how “As human beings we share a tendency to scramble for certainty whenever we realize that everything around us is in flux… But in truth, the very nature of our existence is forever in flux… We seem doomed to suffer simply because we have a deep-seated fear of how things really are.”

And, in the face of that, “Is it possible to increase our tolerance for instability and change? How can we make friends with unpredictability and uncertainty – and embrace them as vehicles to transform our lives?” Basically, then, a question of how we should live. Life being, by its very nature, destined to pass and change, how can we understand ourselves and respond well to the world around us?

It’s an interesting challenge for the West as, really, we seem quite superficial – clinging to all these things and believing they somehow define us and make our lives meaningful. From the perspective Chodron offers, this life of fixed identity, attachment, and the strong emotions accompanying it might be better used as paths to awakening.

A picture of taking the self a little less seriously – defusing the bomb in terms of how we react to life – by committing to not cause harm, but be good to each other; to help others and ease suffering; and, embrace the world just as it is. As seeds of ideas that can clearly flourish into a complex spiritual tradition, these seem pretty solid principles for how we might decide to be human.

Notes and References:

“Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change” by Pema Chödrön, (Shambhala, Boston), 2012.

Note 1: Do we need meaning?
Note 1: Mindfulness, antidote to life or way of being
Note 1: “Spiritual Emergency”
Note 1: Power in what we believe
Note 1: Spirit as the invisible
Note 2: What really matters
Note 2: The power of understanding
Note 2: Do we know what stands before us?
Note 2: Ways thought adds spin to life
Note 2: The sense of having a worldview

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Doing the right thing, we erase consequences

In life, we often like feedback. To know that something we’ve done has gone well, worked, made things better. Whether that’s a natural instinct or something inculcated in us by education, psychology or other theories of human motivation is perhaps impossible to answer – once we’re used to receiving confirmation, its absence can easily make us anxious or insecure.

Apparently, it’s neurochemicals: when we receive praise or condemnation it creates reactions in the brain that filter on through the body to make us feel either good or bad, shaping our next response by way of that “message”. This carrot and stick approach to behaviour change through reward and punishment, acceptance or rejection, happiness or fear (Notes One).

It’s clearly pretty effective, much as I’m not convinced using such techniques to achieve “our” outcomes is particularly respectful or, ultimately, wise. Thinking about it, my concern seems to be that it’s making us externally motivated: we’re trained to use social cues from our environment in order to evaluate ourselves. Society’s standing around us, clapping or frowning in this big show of approval.

And it’s strange, because who are we trying to impress? Is society’s approval worth gaining? It is if we want to belong to it, obviously; but, beyond that, are its “standards” truly valuable? Are these simply “tribes”, formed around any given principle, for the sake of creating belonging and motivation within a world left slightly desolate by the fading of tradition and community?

Thoughts have pulled me a little off track. My point, really, is how we’re so conditioned to look for feedback: parenting, education, social life, all largely work off this use of punishment and reward. We shame, coerce, praise, smile, withdraw affection, hint at perilous danger, make people face consequences. This subtle form of communication whereby some hope to shape others’ behaviour “for the better”.

How much of life is spent talking about consequences? Thanking people, admiring their work, fretting about mistakes, strategizing over how choices might play out. Life, in many ways, is simply thought and action as a feedback loop: we decide what to do, see how it goes, reflect on the experience, and repeat or change our behaviour (Notes Two).

But, is our judgement of what’s “right” determined by that crowd expressing approval or some other means? Often, the right path is one that avoids causing problems: knowing enough to get ahead of ourselves and set everything up to work smoothly (Notes Three). Understanding how to act to preserve and enrich life for the future is, presumably, the path of wisdom? A kind of thinking that imagines, sees fully, acts accordingly.

When that happens, though, we’re erasing the consequences that previously alerted us to something being wrong. Once you understand, you lose feedback – the environment sends no messages. You might stand alone; hopefully, confident in the knowledge you did the right thing. It’s almost as if wisdom creates silence: no ripples, no dramas, no reassuring feedback, only the quiet sense of having known what to do.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Fear or coercion as motivators
Note 1: Need to suffer in order to change?
Note 1: Tell me why I should
Note 2: Imperfection as perfection?
Note 2: Problems & the thought that created them
Note 3: The beauty in home economics
Note 3: Passivity, or responsibility
Note 3: Making adjustments

Broadening this out to the more systemic perspective, there’s Can we solve our own problems?

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Having a sense for being alive

So much in the world is “alive” – possessing these characteristics of growth, sensitivity, responsiveness to environment that we parcel together under the notion of something being, in some way, involved with the processes of life on earth.

It’s incredible, really, that matter can be alive: animated in this way, able to feel the world around, equipped to respond productively and, often, intelligently within the vast, uncoordinated spaces of this planet (Notes One). Physics, biology and science in general can seem cold, calculated, detached and devoid of feeling, but when you really bring it to life there’s clearly beauty, poetry and wisdom to the overall effect it produces.

Maybe it’s “natural” we take this as a given and work from there? Sitting around in awe at the mysterious interrelationships of nature and valuable resources it places at our disposal perhaps wouldn’t get us that far; hence why Western society drew a line under such musings and shifted over to the more practical applications we now see all around us (Notes Two).

Clearly, we moved on. Drifting away from a previously close relationship with nature to live within increasingly urban environments where that world’s becoming a remote, luxurious commodity. It’s almost entirely out of view, unless it’s wheeled in as some sort of window-dressing or in response to outcry at its loss.

The sense of nature being a necessary part of life – a fundamental relationship we should keep in mind, tend, nurture, treasure and preserve – is seeming increasingly rare. More often, it’s repackaged as a lifestyle choice or held up as a cause for activism. And surely it’s right we cry out in its defence? (Note Three)

Most people seem to really value nature. Not just in the abstract, conceptual sense of “it being the foundation of life”, but because we care. We often truly love our pets, gardens, local parks and landscapes. Signs of the seasons are the stuff of life: annual traditions of foraging, noticing the first flowers of spring, and so forth. As beings who are alive ourselves, we perhaps feel deep affinity with the life in nature?

Is it that we’re simply humans living within slightly inhuman systems, trying to find space for our heart to be heard? That we care deeply and believe we’re doing the right things by recycling or supporting local industry, unaware of these other forces at play turning our good intentions into this other picture of the widespread exploitation of natural environments. Do we truly know and agree to what we’re a part of?

Because, really, society grew up around us. From fairly sustainable systems of agriculture, trade and genuine need, we drifted into this completely different world of consumption, waste and endless want. Somewhat idealistically, I’d imagine most people “want” to be living in greater harmony with nature; that we genuinely care for natural diversity and suffering. In reality, though, our lifestyle seems so much more detached (Notes Four).

Can we afford not to fully understand the world we’re all part of?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Some thoughts about “life”
Note 1: Nature tells a story, about the planet
Note 2: “Small is Beautiful”
Note 2: Intrinsic value of nature
Note 2: David Bohm, thoughts on life
Note 2: Right to look out for ourselves?
Note 3: Would we be right to insist?
Note 3: Nature speaks in many ways, do we listen?
Note 4: Detaching from the world around us
Note 4: Does anything exist in isolation?

The essence of all this is perhaps what I was trying to express way back in Living the dream.

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Imperfection as perfection?

In life, there are those who seem pretty “perfect” without much effort – the naturally beautiful, intelligent or otherwise “gifted” people. And, in a world that values perfection regardless of its backstory, these personal assets can make or break us from a young age. As children we know it isn’t “fair”, that it’s profit and praise based on little we’ve actually “done”, so what are we saying here?

This obviously taps into the ants’ nest of contentious conversations around nature, nurture, inequality and privilege within society – all the ways we’ve created or sustain systems that reward innate rather than developed attributes. It’s part of this whole conversation about the meaning of life, value of human existence and what we can offer the world. As if we have to have something to give.

Maybe it’s simply the essence of collective systems? This “give and take” of resources, abilities, needs. We live in systems that value certain things and put a price on others – systems of meaning and of transaction. Existing within society, we’re effectively born into this social balance sheet; and, given how society’s set up, we can perhaps see what “our chances” are.

It’s a weird system, a calculated and deterministic way of looking at life, and it’s hard to argue we’re not playing with a stacked deck. This is people, the world that meets them, and the values placed at the centre of that picture. We’re playing with “the worth of human life” and living through the consequences.

But society, naturally, requires our engagement and benefits from what we have to offer. The way that’s structured and situations its encouraging are without doubt imperfect, but the central premise of individuals working together for common ends isn’t of itself inherently problematic. The value to be gained from human cooperation must “be” the essence of community (Notes One).

If we could create perfect systems for “containing” human life we’d presumably solve problems before they arose, guiding people into a world of total harmony. Idealistic, I know, but isn’t that the nature of thought? To imagine what might be possible if we could just understand enough to get there?

In reality, it seems there are those able to get ahead of themselves and chart a good course through life, then those who learn the hard way. As if some understand in advance what others only see when it’s left in their wake.

Difficulty, though, brings insight and capacity. Making mistakes, we can understand more about life and how to do better. Struggling, we don’t know something or it doesn’t make sense; overcoming that, we move to a deeper, more real feeling for self, society and the processes of transformation (Notes Two).

It seems true that those with innate skills may perform them unconsciously, without awareness of what’s happening or why it matters. Once you’ve grappled with learning what didn’t come naturally, it’s something you’ll know and value intimately. In a way, imperfection might be perfection waiting to happen – once we’ve figured it out.

Notes and References:

Note 1: What you’re left with
Note 1: Human nature and community life
Note 1: “Quest for a Moral Compass”
Note 1: The power of understanding
Note 1: What really matters
Note 2: Absolute or relative value
Note 2: Problems & the thought that created them
Note 2: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 2: Dealing with imperfection
Note 2: Making adjustments

Touching onto notions of idealism and disappointment, there’s Dystopia as a powerful ideal.

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Problems & the thought that created them

The idea that we can’t solve problems using the same thinking we used in creating them is a strange thought. Generally attributed to Albert Einstein, it’s perhaps a thought that arises when you start contemplating the idea of achieving progress by way of thinking: how can we get beyond the situations we’re in?

Because if we’re in any kind of situation we presumably didn’t know not to enter into it? If situations are like agreements or, more tangibly, spaces, those who knew more might simply have refused to go there – walked on by without engaging with what was on offer. Wherever we are, it’s perhaps because, at some point, we didn’t know better. (Notes One)

If all our encounters are choice points, suggestions we either accept or challenge, then our lives are conceivably the outplaying of our agreements (Notes Two). In accepting a premise about our worth, that of others, or the value of life itself we’re surely then building our lives around that step we’ve taken? Even if we did so unknowingly, trustingly or while distracted by other things.

So, in a way, problems seem to be those things we didn’t yet know. Maybe we didn’t see where they might lead, how one thing leads to another until circumstances close in. Maybe we didn’t grasp what things might mean, the picture we were agreeing to paint, until, stepping back, we began wishing it were different.

Which, I suppose, is simply a new level of insight? After the fact. With the perspective of time, we’ve learnt more and would do things a little differently. We’ve perhaps gained some wisdom from having lived through things, watched how they played out, reflected on issues at stake and that which exacerbates or heals them.

It’s almost as if life is “learning the hard way”: learning those things we didn’t know; finding paths from ignorance to enlightenment; uncovering greater knowledge than we previously possessed. Hopefully, rather than repeating the same dramas of a stuck way of thinking, we’re able to rise above and compassionately see where our ideas are causing problems.

On the personal level, it’s presumably where therapy steps in – someone attempting to help you unearth your thinking then rework it into more healthy or productive patterns. Collectively, I’m unsure there’s a therapeutic equivalent – where within the life of society do comparable conversations happen? Politics? Marketing? Spirituality?

Back to the point, to avoid problems it seems that someone, somehow, needs a new level of insight. If problems exist, it’s arguably due to something we didn’t fully understand or appreciate: facts, relationships, consequences. Rather than placing blame, could we perhaps deepen our understanding and find another way? (Notes Three)

In this light, change seems this vast interpersonal journey of struggles, growth, and constant re-evaluation. This ongoing path toward greater awareness, clearer intentions, a more thorough sense of all that goes into making life work. Then, the challenge of sharing our insights and the sobering realisation that even these solutions might not be the endpoint.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The dignity & power of a human life
Note 1: Working through mind & society
Note 1: The power of understanding
Note 2: One thing leads to another
Note 2: Caught in these thoughts
Note 2: Ideas that tie things together
Note 2: Do we need meaning?
Note 3: Convergence and divergence
Note 3: The value of a questioning attitude?
Note 3: Making adjustments
Note 3: Would we be right to insist?

Related to all this, there’s Ways thought adds spin to life which looked further at the role of the mind.

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