Codes of behaviour

Within society, it can be insightful to consider where we get our ideas on ‘how to live our lives’. There are clearly many ways we could answer that: many different influences and sources for those ideas, and many arguments we could make about the relative weight of different factors in attempting to reach a definitive conclusion. Beyond that though, there’s simply the sense of what guides us (see Notes One).

Looking to the past, it seems many communities have attempted to draw together the ideas, values and priorities of their times to craft a set of principles whereby people could live ‘right’ in terms of their character and actions. I’m thinking here of the knightly codes of medieval courtly love and the like, or the Japanese counterpart providing practical and moral instruction for the warrior.

The “Code of the Samurai” was apparently committed to written form around the seventeenth century but, presumably, was based on beliefs and ways of living that had thrived and evolved over the preceding centuries. So, similar in a way to the more Western chivalric codes arising out of that time period and reaching us mainly through the Arthurian legends.

Leaving the history aside, it’s interesting to see how different cultures and times have sought to codify human personal, social and professional standards in order to help sustain a healthy, well-ordered society founded on some pretty finely-tuned moral principles. It can seem quite alien to the modern mind that these communities sought to elevate praiseworthy ideals and put them into practice (Notes Two).

These ‘codes’ – seemingly a few steps from religion, much as they might’ve been informed by such beliefs – essentially seeking to uphold things like honesty, courage, integrity, devotion and self-sacrifice, while reminding people of the social structures and relationships their actions serve to sustain. Giving people an understanding of society and their roles within it can clearly create some quite beautiful cultural legacies.

But then, turning to the present, we seem to not really have such things; only a lot of disparate and often conflicting ideas in their various forms. There’s culture of course, although in the West it no longer seems to have that strong moral or social voice; then our economic narrative, although values seem to have found a strange home there (Note Three).

Maybe it’s a spiritual conversation, this territory of inner morality and social ethics? One modern form might be Paulo Coelho’s “Manual of the Warrior of Light” which can be seen as a fairly non-denominational approach to the question of how to live. It’s not truly comparable, but draws on that tradition of adopting a code of behaviour so there may be a place for it here.

Anyway, it’s just a fascinating thought: whether a modern code’s possible and how ideals, principles and standards might serve to regulate shared existence as much as personal interactions. Rather than drifting on with a slightly ill-defined jumble of ideas and opinions, could a clearer sense of principles be capable of guiding society?

Notes and References:

“Code of the Samurai” by Thomas Cleary, (Tuttle Publishing, USA), 1999

“Manual of the Warrior of Light” by Paulo Coelho, (Harper Collins, London), 1997

Note 1: Learning to be human
Note 1: The way to be
Note 1: Meaning in culture
Note 1: What is acceptable?
Note 2: Dystopia as a powerful ideal
Note 2: The idea of self reliance
Note 3: Language and values

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Dystopia as a powerful ideal

Utopias obviously stand up there as these pinnacles of idealism: places where all our ideals find their place and become a reality. It’s a beautiful concept, but clearly problematic when you attempt them in practice. That said, much as it might be difficult to bring ideals into existence, does that mean we should give up entirely?

They might serve a valuable purpose within society, giving us something to work towards and a set of principles against which we might weigh our options and assess what’s best. Although they do tend to jostle, almost forcing us to decide between them at times: economy or environment; collective concerns or personal ones; and so on.

Any project based on simple one-sided conclusions about the nature of reality or the best way forward seems dangerous: prioritising any one thing usually happens at the cost of disregarding others. We may seek ‘solutions’, but reality is exceptionally complex and, given we’re dealing with human existence, it seems impossible to justify any such path (see Notes One).

Society’s also a project: it has a set of ideas and ideals at its foundation, placed there by the ‘great minds’ who discussed options and how they hoped or expected it all to work out. In a way, that’s simply a process of thought. People decided ‘these ideals are valuable, this is what we should be working towards, and this is how we’ll do it’. But whose ideas are that perfect?

If the execution of that process was flawed, or the ideals themselves not quite in the best balance, where does that leave us? Do we still understand the reasoning behind how we got here, and are we able to change course without pulling everything off the rails and starting over?

We may’ve been handed the project of Western society as if it were the definitive answer to our problems, but that’s a lofty claim and I’d be pretty impressed if anyone managed to get that right first time. In which case, being flexible in understanding society’s component parts and responsive to how it’s working in practice might be better than rigidly holding to old ways of thinking (Notes Two).

Which brings me to my point about culture: faced with this, people may well despair at ideals being so flawed in practice that they seem an impossible illusion that’s not worth fighting for. It’s a ‘reasonable’ conclusion in a way, and one that’s been explored in various cultural forms over the years (Notes Three), but is it wise to embrace images of the downfall of society and its flawed leaders?

Yes, society’s showing itself to be imperfect and we’ve a lot to work through; but a simple rejection of all that went before hardly seems the best way forward. Much as that emotional reaction and picture of a failing society may both be valid, are we right to be fatalistic about that scenario? Might we do better to remain engaged with the ideas, people and practicalities we now stand within?

Notes and References:

“Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley, (Vintage Classics), 2007 (originally 1932)

“W ou le souvenir d’enfance” by Georges Perec, (Denöel, Paris), 1975

Note 1: Complexity of life
Note 1: Convergence and divergence
Note 2: The conversation of society
Note 2: Education with the future in mind
Note 2: Dealing with imperfection
Note 3: “New Renaissance”
Note 3: “Brave New World Revisited”

This clearly spills out into many other areas, some of which have already been touched upon within the theme of Change.

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Living as an open wound

How many people in life are wounded? In big or little ways, it seems many might be living out of a slightly or severely damaged sense of self; impacting their choices, relationships, and feelings about their life and life itself. What can be done about that? In many ways we can’t do nothing, but figuring out what it is we should do is immensely hard.

And, of course, we may well want to forget about it and get on with enjoying our own lives. It’s tempting to say we’ll just leave them to it, that it’s not our problem and they can deal with it. There’s logic there: it’s clearly not easy addressing what are almost invariably complex problems stemming from original wounds now compounded by all the attempts someone’s made to live life despite them.

Surely all those times people turn away from or label them must further impact the wounded soul? Even from well-meaning people, recognising they’re out of their depth and unable to offer much to the situation, that could be perceived as a sign you’re not worth ‘dealing with’. More darkly, there are those who – in different ways – might prey on the wounded and lead them into even darker places.

In so many ways, wounds can be left unattended or taken advantage of: wounded individuals kind of languishing at the sidelines of a society that’s happy to rush ahead without them. And that’s not to judge, because who wants to deal with a problem that’s not their own? Who wants to form a relationship with a difficult person rather than an easygoing, confident one? It’s understandable; it’s the life we want for ourselves.

But then, if the ‘healthy’ leave the wounded to their obviously limited devices, they may be left in the hands of others who exacerbate or manipulate that pain for their own ends. For those inclined to think that way, imbalanced people are easier to ‘control’: once you know which buttons to press, which issues cut to that core of their being where they feel desperate, lost and alone. Not a cheerful picture, but maybe pretty close to reality.

What’s the answer there? We might say that ‘hurt people hurt people’; and that may well be true. We might say ‘it’s not our problem’; but that’s only partly true. As a society, if people are being wounded and there’s no real system for redressing it then, almost inevitably, it’ll become a social problem. We might want to turn away for an easier, happier life of our own; but if we do the problems will surely grow.

How we might help, bring greater understanding to our interactions, and hold the belief that anyone broken can and should be ‘healed’ are serious issues for society. Also, maybe it’s more a question of degree: many people have areas in life where they don’t feel ‘good enough’ and act out of that discomfort. While it may be more urgent for some, psychological wholeness seems important for us all.

Notes and References:

The way to be
Ways of living & those who suffer
Human nature and community life
What we bring to life
Does it matter if others suffer?
Conversation as revelation
The worth of each life

With all of this, I do personally believe we each have the capacity to make a difference – whether we’re the one suffering or those who encounter them, it’s surely always possible to heal and make changes – as explored in The human spirit.

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The creativity of living

Writing about life as much as living it, it’s easy to get tangled in details or lost in possibilities: we live in strange times where almost anything’s possible yet the realities of life can also be more constricting than ever. Life can seem quite overwhelming with all its choices, paths we could walk, and differing opinions we’d encounter along the way. What can we make of that?

Coming at it from a few different angles, I’ve at times mused over life being comparable to art or thought (see Notes One): ways we perceive reality then craft our best response to it. Other times I’ve looked at things more systemically, asking about human agency and the impacts we have (Notes Two). But life cannot be reduced to simple recipes, appealing as that prospect might be.

I mean, as expressed in many of those posts, life is what we make of it. We’re essentially these agents or actors capable of ‘reading’ situations and responding to them as best we can; those actions then filtering into that world around us – creating, sustaining or reinforcing the various systems making up human society and our footprint on the planet.

We could look at that and say we’re not free, that we have no real choice in many of the factors that shape us; or we could conclude that we are, that we have freedom in our response to it all (Notes Three). Clearly a long-standing argument about the nature of our existence, and not one I really plan to delve into too much here.

My point though is that, for me, there’s a certain creativity to how we might live: that we could look, understand as best we can, then decide our response so as to bring something more to life. If we conceive of art as a response to life – a perception, interpretation, and an answer in some form or another – then potentially that could help shape our lives in new ways.

Rather than life being a mechanistic set of reactions, formulas and predictable trains of thought, we could approach it more creatively if we wanted to. Often we do, in a way, but it’s often recast as personal branding, image, and so forth – that commercial conversation sneaking into questions of human identity, expression and belonging.

I’m not talking about strategic gestures in how we craft a self out of the opportunities of modern life, but a genuine creative response to the challenges of existence. This sense that we might look at life, look at our resources, and decide what we want to make of it: where we want to make our mark, the themes or areas we personally wish to focus on, and how we might collaborate with others in doing so.

All of that seems to contribute to this, slightly imaginary, conversation around life and the agency of human existence. It’s one reason arts are arguably important for civilisation, and possibly one option for finding our way within the complexities of life.

Notes and References:

Note 1: What makes a good life?
Note 1: Thoughts on art & on life
Note 1: What is real?
Note 2: Right to question and decide
Note 2: What we bring to life
Note 3: Krishnamurti’s “Inward Revolution”
Note 3: The idea of self reliance

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What we bring to life

When it comes to life, how are we supposed to evaluate it? We could look to statistics: the number of friends we have, the volume of interactions in any given timeframe, the amount of money in the bank, or countless other formulas for how we’re doing. That’s one approach. And, of course, it tells us ‘something’ about a person in relation to society. But that may not be all there is.

It’s something I’ve talked about at various times in writing here (see Notes One), and that’s largely because it seems so important. We can indeed look at society and human activity statistically, but surely we get a very different picture than if we were to look at it from a human perspective. In that light, what is it that we, as humans, bring to life?

Because it really seems that ‘the modern way of looking at things’ seems to create confusion or overwhelm and, in doing so, possibly obscures some fundamental thoughts about life, human worth, and the project of existence. I’m going to leave that sentence in its slightly confused state because, to me, there’s truth in that: we have so many conversations going on at once, so many contradictory or conflicting principles at play in the things we do, that it’s hard to pick out what we’re really saying about life.

We might be encouraged to judge others, cast people aside, or care more for ourselves than the remote impacts we’re having elsewhere. We may struggle to bear in mind all the systems we’re part of and ways our words, actions and attitudes create realities others have to deal with. There might be so much going on that it’s too much to handle and easier to ignore (Note Two), but does that make it the right path?

In making our choices in life – from the myriad of options, and under fairly intense time pressures and social coercion – we may well choose to put ourselves first, to allow a ‘reasonable’ or ‘practical’ degree of compromise, or be swept along with various trends and make that a justification in itself. And all that sends messages out through the example we offer, standards we set, and the ramifications for others.

From that perspective, we’re all making a difference through how we live: in our relationships and interactions; with our insights, contributions or criticisms; by our very presence and the journey we’re all making. Through living, we make the world around us a different place. What it is that we’re doing on that level may be harder to quantify and slower paced, but it’s arguably no less important or real (Note Three).

It’s interesting to consider, because it could be that ‘how we’re living’ – while viable and maybe even admirable economically – really isn’t working so well in a human sense (Notes Four). If society and modern culture are judging our ‘worth’ wrongly then surely people will feel unappreciated, despondent, and maybe even angry. After all, what is life and human existence?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Worthless, or priceless?
Note 1: How we feel about society
Note 2: Value in visible impacts
Note 3: What is real?
Note 4: The conversation of society
Note 4: Economy & Humanity

Turning to literature, “Brave New World Revisited” had some interesting insights around these topics.

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Seeing, knowing and loving

If beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, then that implies some relationship between what we hold within us and what we’re able to appreciate in the world: that we only truly see that which we’ve come to understand. It’s just an idea, of course; but an interesting one.

That we might each have within us an inner landscape of sorts – formed through our encounters with the world, and from which we then understand ourselves, the world, and our position within it – is something touched on previously (see Notes One). It’s probably a philosophical question: the sense of how meaning, identity and knowledge arise between humans and their environments.

In so many ways we can only recognise that which we’ve been taught to know: to understand and appreciate its value, purpose or meaning within human society. Arguably the process of education is one of familiarising young people with the history, artefacts and priorities of their culture – bringing them to an appreciation of these things and equipping them with the insight and skill to be able to apply that knowledge in new ways.

It’s an interesting practice: that we might be shown things and simultaneously instructed as to their importance. That kind of social conditioning where one generation attempts to impart what’s deemed essential to those who follow. It applies to education, but maybe also to media, culture, belief, and even to economic realities. We pass things on, often loading them up with implied significance and a dose of moralising.

I’m not sure what space there is in that picture for the possibility we might’ve been mistaken about some things. Clearly we can only pass on what we know, and maybe what we know isn’t quite right at times or isn’t working out as we’d hoped. The certainty of any kind of knowledge maybe questionable, but society does need to be grounded on a degree of common understanding.

The question of how we might then move beyond received knowledge to explore what’s unfamiliar or new is also fascinating (Notes Two). That process of familiarising ourselves with what was previously unknown – going into personal uncharted territory and finding means to evaluate what we meet there – seems an interesting one to try and prepare for.

After all, if we mainly value what we know and understand, then presumably there’s a lot in life we may not see for what it truly is. Having a flexible enough sense of identity and worldview so as to be able to confidently encounter the unknown is a fairly challenging educational target, but unless we have that we’re arguably destined for conflict and disagreement (Notes Three).

And, looking from the personal angle, it’s quite a beautiful idea: that to know someone for who they are, the paths they’ve walked and struggles they’re overcoming, is often what it means to truly love a person. That relationship between being able to see something, understand its worth, and appreciate it for what it is seems so essential to the human journey.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 1: What are we thinking?
Note 1: Aesthetic value of nature
Note 2: Krishnamurti’s “Inward Revolution”
Note 2: Convergence and divergence
Note 3: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 3: The way to be

Continuing on with that thread of ‘human worth’, there’s Worthless, or priceless?

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Convergence and divergence

The human mind seems capable of going in one of two general directions: focussing on the details or allowing quite an expansive openness. That’s clearly a generalisation, but as a basic model of how we approach life it’s an interesting perspective to consider and one explored by E.F. Schumacher in “Small is Beautiful”.

Within the context of education, Schumacher suggested we need some concept of “a hierarchical order” if we hope to make sense of the world and “recognise a meaningful task for [our] life on earth”; especially if you conceive of that task as attaining “a higher degree of realisation of [our] potentialities, a higher level of being … than that which comes to [us] ‘naturally’”.

Essentially, saying that metaphysical models which place us within a larger reality enable us to find a purposeful sense of our position in life; something stripped out of many modern ways of thinking. What we believe about life and how that affects the lives we lead are fascinating – if contentious – topics (see Notes One).

Stepping slightly aside from that, Schumacher then explores the idea that “the nature of our thinking is such that we cannot help thinking in opposites”: “all through our lives we are faced with the task of reconciling opposites which, in logical thought, cannot be reconciled”, requiring us to transcend “the level of being on which we normally find ourselves.”

Simplifying somewhat, convergent problems are then those that are both useful and satisfying in the sense that once resolved “the solution can be written down and passed on to others, who can apply it without needing to reproduce the mental effort necessary to find it.” It’s the premise of Western civilisation, the heart of maths and sciences, and the thinking behind countless hacks, recipes and pre-packaged solutions.

On the other hand, “Life is being kept going by divergent problems which have to be ‘lived’ and are solved only in death”. Here we find realities such as family, relationships, economics, politics, or education; areas of life where, if convergent thinking’s applied, “there would be no more human relations but only mechanical reactions”.

It’s an intriguing proposition to consider: that while the convergent approach serves us well at times, adopting it too broadly might impoverish civilisation by distancing us from complexities of life, morality and emotion. But the reassuring convergence of reading or puzzles can apparently soothe the mind strained and wearied by life’s ongoing, unresolved challenges. Balance appears to be the key.

Life then emerges as this journey of divergent problems which “as it were, force man to strain himself to a level above himself” to find a place where opposites can be overcome or reconciled. Problems without easy answers though, as neat solutions “invariably neglect one of the two opposites” therefore not quite meeting up with reality.

As a picture of life, thought and approaching the challenges of both (Notes Two), this may be fairly reasonable: how we think about different ‘problems’ could well affect our likelihood of resolving them.

Notes and References:

“The Greatest Resource – Education” Chapter Six from “Small is Beautiful. A Study of Economics as if People Mattered” by Dr E. F. Schumacher (Abacus edition, Sphere Books, London) 1974.

Note 1: Writings on Education
Note 1: Power in what we believe
Note 2: David Bohm, thoughts on life
Note 2: Communicating divergent experiences
Note 2: Mindfulness, antidote to life or way of being
Note 2: How do we find a collective vision?
Note 2: Complexity of life

For a recent embodiment of this, Steve Cutts’ animation “Man” explored humanity’s place in nature and the problems we cause, leaving us with that question of how all-encompassing solutions might ever be reached.

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Value in visible impacts

It must make a difference when the implications of what we do are immediately apparent: when unkind attitudes are mirrored by another’s face or careless actions evidenced within our environment. If we had to live through the personal and natural consequences of all we do, it’s conceivable we would quickly learn to keep ourselves in check.

Maybe, in a way, that’s one of society’s functions: to provide that sense of meaning, regulation and self-restraint which is arguably quite essential for any community to exist harmoniously (see Notes One). These days though, it’s rarely the case. So much is almost completely invisible, while our own experiences are being dialled up and possibly further drowning out our ability to notice what’s really going on.

It’s challenging to grasp the reality we’re involved in creating, to see how everything fits and where our choices are hitting home. Ways opinions and attitudes are being conveyed: interactions playing out, affecting others and those around them in personal realities we’re often now a part of. Then the complex socio-economic networks we may partake in without understanding fully; bearing consequences that are nonetheless very real.

I wonder sometimes to what extent “all that’s going on” would be tolerated if it had to be done directly, without the convenient mediation of technology. Having to go out of your way to say something to someone’s face, then face up to the social context of it all, presumably used to be a reasonably effective deterrent to antisocial behaviour: you saw the personal impact; you felt the disapproval of your community.

The internet seems to be empowering an awful lot of activity that communities previously used to curtail in the earlier stages (Note Two). It’s obviously something that’s getting talked about a great deal – how technology is changing modern society – and maybe because we sense it’s fundamentally important while also being incredibly hard to get to grips with (Notes Three).

To me, life is about humanity and how we’re choosing to live in relationship to one another and the world around us. It’s the thoughts and intentions we bring to bear within those spaces and the realities we’re now weaving across the globe as our lives intersect in all these countless ways. It’s the values we prioritise in that, the worth we assign to life and the ability of the planet to sustain it.

And in so many ways modern living seems to be threatening that; undermining the threads that make up society and the foundations of our shared existence. Technology seemingly encouraging us to live at such a pace where we must limit our focus in order to manage: where ignoring our impacts, disregarding so many and so much, and justifying it one way or another is becoming ‘normal’.

Is it normal? Has humanity ever lived so carelessly of its social and environmental impacts? Is it wise to do so? And what would it mean to ‘stay human’ in a world that’s almost inviting us to turn a blind eye?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 1: Human nature and community life
Note 2: People, rules & social cohesion
Note 3: Technology & the lack of constraint
Note 3: “Response Ability” by Frank Fisher
Note 3: Reality as a sense check

Looking in a slightly different way at living within troubling times, there’s Dealing with imperfection.

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Power in what we believe

The word belief can be seen as having less weight than ‘know’, but in some ways it’s starting to seem more important. These days it’s as if facts and knowledge can be reframed to suit many different worldviews or opinions. And, if that’s a true reading of the situation, what power does fact then retain?

It’s a strange situation, because it used to be that knowledge carried power: people would familiarise themselves with specific trains of thought and generally accepted premises, then the conversation would broadly progress along those lines. Now, personal perspectives and preferences have apparently stepped into that chain of reasoning.

Maybe it’s not so unusual, in that there always needs to be some overarching sense of meaning within which knowledge can sit: the firmament into which we slot our facts and see how things relate to one another.

In that case, maybe the main difference is that this backdrop is now personally constructed rather than collectively accepted? So, instead of our sense of meaning being imparted by the traditions of religion, state or some other source, we’re seeking things out for ourselves. Presumably, that personal meaning may then be informed to varying degrees by culture, education, unexamined assumptions, or life experiences (see Notes One).

Which is interesting to consider, because how can we be sure? Recent centuries have had these robust dialogues around the nature of knowledge, as they applied logic to extricate human understanding from the oversight of those authorities; but that tradition of inquiry seems to have fallen by the wayside. Often, for some reason, we’re being encouraged to simply decide it all for ourselves.

Whether or not that matters is then a philosophical or spiritual question, I would’ve thought: whether beliefs about reality matter, at the end of the day. But also a social or interpersonal question, in the sense that our beliefs about life must impact how we relate to one another and the world we create together (Notes Two). If people all carry significantly different ideas as to what things ‘mean’, conflict’s also fairly likely.

It’s obviously something I see as important. What we believe influences so many aspects of life: how we view ourselves and the power of our words, ideas and actions; how we approach others, accepting or respecting their own ideas and experiences; how we understand society and ways we shape it through communication, relationships, patterns of behaviour; then the global ramifications of all these things.

Belief – the trust, faith or confidence we have – finds it ways into all that we do, creating countless consequences that will take time to unravel: our attitudes and actions may trap others in economic, social or emotional realities they’re then almost powerless to extricate themselves from. The moral implications are arguably no less weighty than they were considered to be a century or so back.

Beyond facts then, there’s this overlay of ‘meaning’ and of understanding where things may lead. Whether we call that belief or something else, it’s conceivably an important reality.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Complexity of life
Note 1: Learning to be human
Note 1: Meaning in culture
Note 2: What are we thinking?
Note 2: What if it all means something?
Note 2: What is real?

In terms of how best to stand within all this, The idea of self reliance explored some of Emerson’s thoughts around how we could live.

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At what point are we just humans?

In life, do we think we’re all alike or decide that we’re in some way different? Clearly the circumstances of each person’s birth can be seen to shape their life to a fairly considerable extent but, beyond the ripple effect of that, do we see one another as essentially the same?

There are countless ways we might all seem different: appearance, age, religious or social background, geography, heritage, educational opportunities, and the base notes of personality, interests and experience. Much of that may impact our “chances” in life, the perceived assets or challenges we’re saddled with. The degree to which we can ever be free of conditioning is interesting to contemplate (see Notes One).

That seems so important to get to grips with: the ways we might appear different and the implications such differences have for the lives we lead. It’s fairly undeniable that much is set in motion by early experiences, by the situations we each step into socially, globally and personally. We may well be working through the realities of that for the rest of our lives. So, in a way, there is difference there.

And even when, broadly speaking, that’s less obvious there can still be significant differences in outlook and attitude to life (Note Two). All the ways people encounter others and the ideas of their society, culture and time must create an almost unfathomable richness of diversity, insight and awareness. Surely no two people are even remotely the same, each carrying their own unique way of being.

So, faced with the mobility of modern life and the relentless pace of change within society, it’s understandable we might struggle to appreciate the depth of human experience we’re now exposed to. Rather than the geographically limited communities of the fairly recent past – with their stable, defined relationships and clear systems of belief – we now have this incredibly open world of new experiences (Notes Three).

All that is what it is: we’re now aware of all the ways humanity has developed structures of society, belief and economic activity across the globe; we can see how prioritising our own interests almost unavoidably impacts others, so we have to decide if that’s justifiable. And, of course, all that’s going to be confronting.

It’s not like we’ve got a history of getting along easily with one another, so relating to a world of differing ideas and experiences is potentially as challenging as it is enriching. Understanding others, making room for them, accepting other conclusions about life can be difficult at the best of times (Notes Four), so having these modern conversations about our past, present and future may indeed be daunting.

On paper and in person, we might well focus on noticeable differences – labelling ourselves on that level, as is generally encouraged by modern dialogues of culture or marketing. But surely we “know” on some other level that we’re seeing others as different rather than human, that we could rise above divisions and relate on the basis of our shared humanity?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Krishnamurti’s “Inward Revolution”
Note 1: Complexity of life
Note 2: How it feels to be alive
Note 3: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 3: The web and the wider world
Note 4: Listening, tolerance & communication

Looking further at choices in how we live and ways we relate, there’s Worthless, or priceless? and The human spirit.

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