Author: admin

Gardening & local environment

Environment must be almost undeniably important. It’s the spaces we exist within and the meaning we see within them. Whether we’re talking on a global scale or more locally, the physical realities around us tell us a lot about our priorities and how we think about life (see Notes One).

Of course, I realise I’m being quite conceptual here. In reality, local environments are spaces we move within as we live our lives and global ones are perhaps remote places we might occasionally visit or become aware of. But essentially they do paint a picture of life, demonstrating our choices and their impacts.

Leaving aside the global perspective, our local environments are often bleak enough in their own right. The ways we act, and the kinds of materials and developments that form part of our daily lives can make modern life seem depressingly short-sighted and careless (Notes Two). We might not have much control over some of those trends, but when it comes to gardens we can have a say in what we put out into these shared spaces.

In the past, there might’ve been a slightly moralistic expectation that we create a certain impression: competing with neighbours or cultivating an acceptable sense of style. The social history of gardens is fairly fascinating. And that kind of approach can still be seen in what’s shown as fashionable or coveted in the world of garden design.

Understandably, this might put people off. As with art, I sometimes find the gardening world unusual: a strange subculture of Latin terminology, mysterious practices, countless things you can get wrong, and conversations you don’t really want to be having. But, beyond that, it’s fairly straightforward and forgiving (Note Three).

And I really feel gardens can contribute a great deal to local community. Not just in terms of tackling trends for paving things over to make room for more cars, or setting about window-dressing to increase the value of our homes and so on; but because they offer signs of hope, joy, and life.

The passing of time is most evident within the natural world: the first signs of spring, the riotous colour of summer, the comings and goings of animals in tune with the seasons, and the sometimes unexpected beauty of going into the winter months. All these realities weave into our everyday experiences of life.

And when someone takes the time to tend or curate a plot of land to showcase aspects of that for those who happen to pass by, then that can become quite a meaningful offering. Children might walk past, notice those plants and their colours, and begin to appreciate the wonder of nature. Others may gain a lot from the simple enjoyment of watching the antics of birds or squirrels, or the reassuring emergence of new growth.

For me, it’s one of the simplest and most beautiful things we can offer our community: the vision, effort, faith, and light-hearted humour of interacting with nature just for the sake of it.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Nature tells a story, about society
Note 1: Aesthetic value of nature
Note 2: The challenge of community
Note 2: Real estate, rental and human nature
Note 2: What are the true costs?
Note 3: Gardening as therapy, the light

This also links in some ways to The human spirit, which spoke of what we can offer others through our actions.

Ways to share this:

Aesthetic value of nature

Some things in life seem quite vast, quite interconnected, and quite hard to pin down. One of those, in my eyes, is the question of art and its relationship to nature or, in a broader sense, to reality itself.

Looking at the origins of the term “aesthetic”, it appears to have arisen out of a sense of ‘the perceptible’ before shifting to a newer meaning of ‘being concerned with beauty’. Which seems interesting: that perception led to a sense of the beautiful.

Because clearly artists, poets and others have been drawn to nature and what it offers us: the truth of light, colour, and form; the added meaning of composition, gesture, balance, and transformation. In many ways, nature can be seen to have given us an understanding and appreciation of beauty through our collective efforts to capture and create meaning out of it. The natural world may indeed be our teacher in that respect.

As humans, it seems we look to our environment to find meaning – meaning, identity, belonging, and a sense of our place in reality. The way art seemingly arose very early on in human society surely suggests our representation of what we saw and what mattered to us has pretty much always been a part of our existence (see Notes One).

Which is what I find intriguing: how culture arose alongside our relationship to the world; the way our mind sought to match and fathom it; the path art walks alongside human civilisations. In recent years our connections to nature may’ve become less tangible, particularly in the West; but historically it’s had a hugely significant influence on our lives. This relationship is, in a way, what life’s all about (Notes Two).

Some of the more poignant examples of that come from the Romantics and the ways they sought to express the path to modernity through art, poetry and related pursuits. The metaphor of nature standing well against the emerging individualism and social progress of the time, as we effectively began distancing ourselves from it in both thought and practice.

And maybe this is why modern life can seem so dark: because we’ve distanced ourselves from our place in nature and lost ourselves in thought. So much of life now seems abstract, detached, the spinning of ideas but the lack of meaning. In life and art we seem to have lost that connection (Notes Three).

It’s fairly easy to take photos, create images and forge a visual brand out of our personal slant on life. The world’s now full of so much that it’s hard to know true beauty within it all. And nature itself seems to be showing us the consequences of our actions, painting quite a bleak picture of where we now find ourselves.

So while nature offers us beauty, maybe it also shows us where it’s lacking. Maybe these things reflect the paths we’ve taken and the risks we’re running. All of which seems fundamentally important in terms of the meaning we’re giving to life.

Notes and References:

Note 1: The value of art in society
Note 1: How well does art relate to life?
Note 2: Natural World
Note 2: Living the dream
Note 2: Gardening as therapy, the light
Note 3: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 3: What makes a good life

“Ecological Intelligence” picks up many of these ideas around environment, meaning and also poetry.

Ways to share this:

The human spirit

Sometimes people act in ways others find to be inexplicable, inspiring, overwhelming. Moments of self-sacrifice, compassion, grace, strength of character. We seem stunned and taken aback by it: that someone would act selflessly in a way that suggests a deeper sense of humanity and meaning to their actions.

When that happens, it’s often a wonderful beacon of hope – faith in the human spirit to act in ways that transcend the commercial, calculated behaviours we more commonly see.

It’s clearly inspirational to see people rise above the more obvious responses to situations and choose to offer something so different based on their own sense of what’s important, what matters, and what’s worthwhile. We can get so caught up in ‘how things are’ and all the logical, psychological, or social justifications for human behaviour that we forget there’s another way.

And it’s fascinating. There’s so much bad in the world, and most of it can be chalked up to human nature. Yet the human spirit is also capable of something quite different.

I’ve spoken a few times here about hope, human worth and paths we take in life (see Notes One), all of which tie into this. I mean, in the face of life we have choices: we can act based on examples we may have seen, on how we see others acting, on what seems acceptable or might gain us admiration from certain quarters; or we can act on our ideas, our ideals, our understanding, our beliefs.

It’s another fascinating part of life: that we can choose our own path. We can choose to uplift or destroy. We can choose to believe what we want about life, existence, and the importance of our place within it. We can choose despair or release. We can let ourselves be shaped by things, or we can choose to shape them ourselves. In many ways, the paths we walk are down to us (Notes Two).

And, of course, all of that impacts the world around us: our choices, our actions, our attitudes, and the meanings evident behind them become part of the world we’re creating together. Not just for us, but for everything that forms part of our existence.

We may be but a single person, and the logic of the world may say we make little difference. But it does seem that when people act on a different sense of meaning, we generally notice it. Whether that’s someone more widely acknowledged, or the quieter examples we all offer one another in our everyday lives.

Something inexplicable may prompt people to create beautiful gestures of hope, offering them up to others as inspiration and reassurance that there’s more to life. While something else may lead others to destroy those things, just because they can. Human nature and human spirit seem at odds: one often pointing to despair, the other giving cause for hope.

Do I have a point here? Only that it matters, and not to give up hope that we all make a difference.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Hope as a force to lead us onward
Note 1: Intrinsic worth over social identity
Note 1: What makes a good life
Note 2: Spirit as the invisible
Note 2: We may as well laugh
Note 2: Need to stand alone & think for ourselves

Ways to share this:

We may as well laugh

Humour is interesting in how it offers us a unique way of processing things, but at times it can also act to ‘stop’ reasoned and important conversation. At what point does that become too much of an obstacle?

The ways humour serves as a release, a way of communicating indirectly and forging human connections over complex realities is really quite beautiful. We all know that life is often contradictory, dark, frustrating and seemingly irresolvable, and laughter can create a bridge across that unspoken knowledge. It lets us bond over the inexplicable aspects of our existence, where laughing about it can seem the most sensible response.

It’s so fascinating in terms of thinking itself: that our intellect can both engage deeply with reality yet hold it in a lighter and much more socially enjoyable space of recognition. It almost seems part of the human condition in the sense that we flit between disaster and release, between the currents of lightness and dark (see Notes One). As intelligent creatures, humour seems to let us walk both paths.

In a way, it seems the flipside of anger. Anger being the place where we erupt more in response to what we see around us (Note Two). As explored in that post, anger often alerts us to what matters and to the injustice we see in the world; a personal reaction of attacking and seeking to destroy what we see to be mistaken.

And, as with my reservations about the effectiveness of anger, I wonder at the limitations of humour. It can clearly serve as a defence: a way of holding things at arm’s length and deflecting what seems too much to handle. While that may be a natural reaction, does it help us move beyond these things and engage with making changes?

At times it seems the use of humour descends more into resignation and mocking – one a sense of apathy, and the other a resort to personal attacks. Which is understandable when problems seem so large, so systemic, so unapproachable. But at those times it also seems that humour loses its edge: dipping too much into powerlessness or anger, instead of walking that fine line of semi-conscious awareness.

Because it really seems that humour may help us admit difficult realities; literally to let them into our mind in a manner that doesn’t incapacitate us with despair or anger. While holding them at that slight distance may make them more manageable, deflecting too much seems to risk us not addressing the truth of the matter at all.

There’s a delicate balance there. And if we simply laugh but feel we can do no more, we’re then in this powerless place we need to be able to move beyond. And I’m really not saying that’s easy (Note Three), but that it seems important to be aware of. Laughter may help us in a lot of ways, especially if we can pick up the threads of hope and despair to build something better out of them.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Living the dream
Note 1: What makes a good life
Note 1: Created a system we seek to escape?
Note 1: What inspires all of this
Note 2: Anger as a voice
Note 3: Things we can’t talk about

Ways to share this:

Things we can’t talk about

Often it seems certain topics are avoided, not because they’re not important but because it’s not worth weathering the storm. Complex realities, personal emotions, and time pressures seem to be making it too hard to work through things properly (see Notes One). But surely society can’t really move forward while holding onto unresolvable issues, so it seems we do need to find a way beyond it.

I’ve encountered it in writing here: feeling that some topics are either too contentious or too complex to do justice to, and might be better left alone (Notes Two). The question of who has the right to address issues and how to go about it seems a strange problem of our times. But if we step back from that, where do we end up?

If emotions, anger, wounds and defensiveness derail conversations completely then that limits our ability to engage with important social concerns. It seems to risk us not touching on certain things beyond delineating the sides of a conversation that never takes place; creating an interesting stalemate and also a huge challenge.

Topics like anti-social behaviour; the murky area of social ethics; and the wider roles of education, family and culture all fall within this. Who has the right to challenge, decide, and address those issues? Or are they simply systems we live within and have no ground to reflect upon?

Which may be part of the problem: we live within systems as individuals, so we quite naturally defend our place in them. Raising questions around almost anything risks becoming personal, as we each exist somewhere within the networks of privilege or disadvantage that shaped the modern world. Having grown into those realities, we identify with them; so such conversations venture into territories of judgement and self-defence.

At times it seems difficult, if not impossible, to move past that. We’re essentially talking about inherited social realities: situations that fall on our shoulders merely by being born. We might benefit, but we’re not exactly responsible for having caused them. Can we hold people accountable for what was done in the past? We certainly cannot change the past. And holding onto it can sorely affect the present.

Is it possible to separate the personal and elevate this into a social dialogue? Not that the personal isn’t extremely important, but it often seems to act as a roadblock to broader discussions. The subjective matters in that it’s how things affect us personally; but, objectively speaking, it seems we need a way to see things clearly, possibly dismantle aspects of them, and move forward together.

In a way, it seems we need to gain perspective on the fracture lines in society without getting stuck in personal battles of identity. Above all, it’s undeniably a challenge to develop more nuanced and powerful communication: to find ways to take responsibility without being incapacitated by it; to broach difficult conversations with courage and compassion; to realise that responsibility now lies with us. Because I’m not sure there’s another way.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Where’s the right place to talk?
Note 1: Talking through difficult topics
Note 1: Anger as a voice
Note 2: Education with the future in mind
Note 2: Mental health as a truth to be heard?
Note 2: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 2: People, rules & social cohesion

Ways to share this:

“The Tipping Point”

The idea of “The Tipping Point” has become fairly commonplace since the book’s publication in 2000, but it still raises a lot of interesting issues around how we live and the directions things seem to be moving.

In essence, the book looks at ways our social and physical surroundings influence our behaviour; how trends become compelling, seeping into commonly held ideas and changing our standards of what’s acceptable, inevitable, justifiable, and so on. We might be talking about crime, fashion, television, or social principles but, at a certain point, a line is crossed and things change.

A core part of which is environmental: how what we see shapes what we see as acceptable and also plays off our social inclinations to fit in. Gladwell offers a range of scenarios demonstrating how “a number of relatively minor changes in our external environment can have a dramatic effect on how we behave and who we are”, bringing out either the best or the worst (see Notes One)

Then there’s the sense of our actions having a social aspect, creating a perceived affirmation or permissiveness over standards of behaviour (Notes Two). It’s certainly interesting to dwell on the collective nature of all we do and the messages we’re sending others. Building on which, Gladwell explores how public life can be “a kind of natural advertisement for a particular response to your problems”: ways we follow others; ideas that begin to seem normal; and the importance of speaking responsibly in these spaces.

All of which presumably arose as natural human functions: physical surroundings displayed and reinforced shared values, as did our social and cultural interactions. These seem the bones of human society. The fact they’re now dissected, laid bare, and played upon to various ends is an interesting sign of the times.

Yet at the core of all this are individuals with the power to choose. Things might exert a subconscious influence on us, which may appeal to business or government, but our values can also shape our actions. As with Gladwell’s discussion of the bystander effect, there’s the question of whether we rest in our subconscious assumptions or develop a more intentional approach to life (Notes Three).

Because my reservation about this book is the extent to which it helps us live better. Does ‘knowing’ how much things influence us help or actually diffuse their power to hold society together? Do we then act differently and ‘play’ the system more knowingly? Do we become cynical and begin to mistrust situations and the people acting behind them? Whether this knowledge gives us power or gives it away isn’t quite clear.

Ultimately though, the message is “a bedrock belief that change is possible” and “a reaffirmation of the potential for change and the power of intelligent action”. Shining a light on all the intriguing ways we create meaning and interact with the world may be ripe for exploitation and misuse, but it also offers us the conscious awareness to hopefully put it to good use.

Notes and References:

“The Tipping Point” by Malcolm Gladwell, (Abacus, UK), 2001 (originally 2000)

Note 1: “Ecological Intelligence”
Note 1: Laws and lawlessness
Note 2: Individual responsibility, collective standards
Note 2: Complicity and cultural attitudes
Note 3: Need to stand alone & think for ourselves
Note 3: Media and responsibility
Note 3: People wanting change

Ways to share this:

People, rules & social cohesion

What is it that keeps society together, ordering ways we behave and how we view one another and our collective existence? Is it having a common vision, traditions received from the past, the regulation of law, or something else? It’s interesting to consider and all those things play a part; but how aware are we of our role within it all?

The ‘project’ of nationhood is, of course, fairly recent and far from smooth sailing: slightly disparate peoples were drawn together under banners of national mythology, based on some degree of commonality and the inspiring visions of a few. That sense of belonging, identity and mutual benefit became a legacy: something we’re born into, likely take for granted more than our predecessors, and uphold with varying intensity.

My question here though is how this works on a personal level: how an individual learns to understand and relate to society; and where the attitudes, beliefs and actions that serve to sustain shared values and systems come from.

Society’s surely something we have to understand and appreciate. With that, there’s how things came to be and the ideals underpinning a way of life; then what’s expected of individuals in terms of behaviour and responsibility (see Notes One). Family begins shaping our social awareness, emotions and expectations; a task reaffirmed by community and culture, and developed through schooling and personal relationships (Notes Two).

By the time we take our place in the world we hopefully have a good sense of our worth and value; how our actions weave with those of others; and what we can contribute and gain. Whether that understanding’s reciprocal and heart-felt or more transactional is another matter. It also seems that people secure in themselves don’t tend to take more than they need; able to stand and give more freely.

All these things have changed so much in the last hundred years or so. Whereas people once spoke of love for country, obligation, and sacrifice for the common good; now we more often speak subjectively of experiences, identity and image. This individualism is a beautiful part of modern life, yet something still needs to hold us together.

Understanding what we form part of and how vital our constructive involvement is seems more important than ever, but also seems to be wavering. Whereas tradition or moralising once sustained things, these have little place in a modern society grounding itself on more certain knowledge. However, if we’re not acting out of mutual consideration, society must be forever pulling apart.

In so many ways, looking out mainly for ourselves may be creating problems for others (Notes Three). Whether we’re talking empathy, environment or economics, our choices have consequences that strengthen or strain apart our shared realities.

While belief, tradition and community may be fading, letting what they offered pass away completely may leave us with a fragmented reality. Finding a more living understanding of social existence and the parts we have to play within it seems an important project for modern times.

Notes and References:

Note 1: “The Spirit of Community”
Note 1: Laws and lawlessness
Note 2: Antisocial behaviour & the young
Note 2: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 2: Learning to be human
Note 3: Created a system we seek to escape?
Note 3: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 3: Anger as a voice

For a more philosophical slant on this, there’s Mirrors we offer one another; whereas Shared spaces & how things get done offers a more practical parallel.

Ways to share this:

Education with the future in mind

It seems that in the past ‘education’ was a shared project of sorts between family; local community in all its forms; social and cultural life; apprenticeship or involvement in the workplace; and some element of more formal instruction. Between all that, people came to understand the society they lived in and their roles within it.

Which is what education’s about really: preparing people for life; for their economic, social, cultural, emotional, political responsibilities. It’s giving people the knowledge, skills, broader sense of how things are, and the capacity to stand within it all as balanced, healthy human beings acting responsibly within their various environments and relationships.

These days, much of that’s placed in the hands of the education system, with its task of imparting what’s considered essential for society and individual fulfilment. And, without going too much into whether all those earlier functions are incorporated or the extent to which community, culture, social life and employment have also changed in that time (see Notes One), how well does this prepare people for modern life?

What’s needed in order to be prepared? Is it exposure to technologies; historical knowledge; social awareness; creative or analytical thinking; practical life skills; adaptive capacities; or simply self-confidence? That list’s not even exhaustive, but can any one institution provide it all in lieu of the broader, collective cooperation of the old ways?

It’s little wonder policy regarding education is so contentious and realities so difficult, given how much rests in the hands of schools at a time when society itself is struggling. And then, do we educate for the social system as it is; as we imagine it might become; as industry wants it to be; or as we hope it will be? Given it’s a government concern, it’s clearly a planned future of sorts and probably one with industry involvement (Notes Two).

Deciding – let alone agreeing on – what’s going to be needed for the future seems an almost impossible task. And the education system itself has a history, so it may not be the most responsive or unified entity. But is it right for government to manage learning for its shifting political agendas, considering how much it shapes us as individuals?

Aldous Huxley talked about education for freedom (Note Three). How we might enable people to stand independently within society; knowing how things are, how we got here, and how to handle the fruits we’ve attained; applying a sense of discernment and intention to their participation in economic, social and cultural life. Essentially, imparting a detailed picture of human civilisation and the self-assurance to live into the current reality of that.

Because one of the main certainties for the future must be that things change (Note Four). Rather than attempt to predict those changes, we could foster a living understanding of what it is to be human and all we’ve achieved so far; so people know society, flaws and all, and are able to work with or alter aspects of it should the need arise.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 1: Laws and lawlessness
Note 1: Missing something with modern culture?
Note 2: Learning to be human
Note 2: Economics and the task of education
Note 3: “Brave New World Revisited”
Note 4: History as a process of changes

In many ways, this ties in with Need to stand alone & think for ourselves and the importance of independent thinking.

Ways to share this:

Does it matter if others suffer?

In life, almost everything we do has an impact of one kind or another. All our words, actions and attitudes feed into the realities we share and create with others: systems, relationships, standards across the whole of life (see Notes One). Much of that may be hidden, but is that to say it doesn’t matter?

I’ve heard it argued that we aren’t responsible for how others take things; that if they get hurt or misunderstand, that’s their problem. And of course we need to take responsibility for ourselves, for our wounds or patterns; but that doesn’t mean we needn’t also be insightful, considerate, and clear in our treatment of others.

This touches upon ideas of reciprocity: situations arising out of mutual interactions; things moving both backwards and forwards. Because communication and relationship of any sort clearly involves more than one party and something being both given and received. Are we responsible only for what we give, not for the capacity to receive or whether what’s received is what we intended? In terms of ends and means, is it enough to think of our side and let impacts take care of themselves?

Those wounded in how they relate would presumably then fall back on their limited understanding, caught in their patterns, if no one takes time to impart a better way of being. And those economically disadvantaged – within our own societies or in the global way of working – would also be left to their own devices.

What I’m getting at is how these are all realities we are born into, through no real merit of our own. Those born into situations offering poor models of communicating must work with that. Those born into certain communities and countries often have few chances at attaining wealth, security or social status.

In these areas, and others, it seems we all have a part to play. With social interactions, choices in how we act and what we tolerate shape our social spaces, cultural conversations and ethical standards (Notes Two). Economically, our behaviours sustain global systems and impact the everyday lives of so many (Notes Three).

We may not have created the systems, we may not agree with them, but we are part of them. In that light, do intentions even matter? We might act on what we think to be true and what we would like to create, to the best of our understanding; but if the outcome’s different, is that not our problem? Does responsibility lie in the creation of a system or reality; in coming to an understanding of it; or in our conscious engagement with situations we find before us? Because blaming the system doesn’t solve anything: we may not have caused it, but we can help stop it.

With all this, I’m very much asking questions about problems we can only solve together. Surely it matters that others are suffering, wounded, disadvantaged; and if we can help heal that through our actions, that must be better than leaving them to it.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Reality as a sense check
Note 1: What are the true costs?
Note 2: Empathy in a world that happily destroys
Note 2: How many aren’t well represented?
Note 2: Antisocial behaviour & the young
Note 3: Waste and consumer choices
Note 3: Fashion, self & environment

Also, Mirrors we offer one another spoke in a broader sense of the meaning we create together.

Ways to share this:

Mental health as a truth to be heard?

At times I wonder if some ‘mental conditions’ might be reflections of how we live (see the theme of Mind). Not all cases of course, as certain illnesses seem to have biological causes and treatments; but depression or anxiety could be seen as relatively reasonable responses to modern society and the reality of human existence. So here, in the light of various writers, I will consider how we make sense of life and exist within it.

Society can be seen as the ways we connect with environment and others, plus the sense of meaning, order and structure serving to sustain that (Notes One). Essentially, that human communities exist within and depend upon both nature and mutual cooperation; drawing upon resources to fulfil needs and looking to one another for personal and social meaning.

In the past, it seems societies had strong belief systems; yet, as expressed in New Renaissance, lately “our lives have reached a pitch of meaninglessness … empty of all but materialism … which threatens the stability of our society”. Which is an idea expressed in many writings referenced here: that modern society, having shaken off traditions of meaning, has grounded itself on material knowledge.

This idea of meaningless and possibly flawed social structures seems a recipe for an unsettled mind: as thinking creatures, we almost inevitably seek underlying meaning and purpose in our lives; yet applying ourselves to understand and find our place in a society that claims to have no ultimate meaning and may well be organised in ways that undermine human worth is surely problematic.

It’s something Aldous Huxley considered, drawing on the work of Dr Erich Fromm: “Western society … is increasingly less conducive to mental health, and tends to undermine the inner security, happiness, reason, and the capacity for love”. Pointing out the value of ‘illness’ as “where there are symptoms there is conflict, and conflict always indicates that the forces of life which strive for integration and happiness are still fighting” (Note Two).

The question of what’s a healthy reaction to an unhealthy situation is an interesting one, and touches onto the psychological impacts of modern life as explored by Huxley among others (Notes Three). If society creates a reality of overwhelming choice, detachment from true understanding, and technologies that distance us from nature and others, then where does it leave the human mind in its search for meaning?

After all, our surroundings shape us. The world presents opportunities and gives meaning, and we adapt ourselves to what it offers (Notes Four). So, society and its systems – with culture and economy essentially running off selling to the human psyche rather than genuine needs or respect for environment – is what’s informing our sense of personal worth, agency, and meaning in life.

Of course, if you’re ill you try to get better; but the idea that symptoms might be signs we should listen to – as canaries in a mine – seems worth thinking about. How we respond, as individuals and a society, is another question.

Notes and References:

“New Renaissance. Essays in Search of Wholeness” by Maurice Ash, (Green Books, Bideford, Devon), 1987.

“Brave New World Revisited” by Aldous Huxley, (Random House, London), 2004 (originally 1958).

Note 1: “Small is Beautiful”
Note 1: “New Renaissance”
Note 1: Writings on Education
Note 2: “Brave New World Revisited”
Note 3: “Response Ability” by Frank Fisher
Note 3: “Paradox of Choice”
Note 3: “Education’s End”
Note 4: “Spiritual Emergency”
Note 4: “Ecological Intelligence”

In a slightly different vein, Gardening as therapy, the light and the dark talked about how relating to nature can soothe the mind.

Ways to share this: