Living together

This post is a bit of a sidestep from things I’ve talked about so far, but it’s into territory that in many ways does relate to those other ideas. My focus here is modern living situations such as house shares, subdivided properties, or shared developments; and how, for many reasons, it seems we’re moving toward sharing ever-closer spaces which – while steering clear of the social ethics of modern economic practices – must surely have an impact on how we experience our homes, our privacy, and our social relationships.

It’s one of those essential human requirements: a home; somewhere to feel secure and free to do as you please; a place to take care of and also to display your values within your environment. It seems central to a person’s sense of self and their place in society. I mean, how we choose to be in relation to others shows what matters to us and the contribution we make through how we live. Maybe these are slightly old-fashioned or idealistic notions; but, as discussed in The challenge of community, what takes place around us is a reality we create together. Home, community, environment, and social ties are important issues, but ones that seem increasingly strained, individualistic, and commercialised.

As existing properties are subdivided (with varying degrees of concern over adequate storage, soundproofing, and sensible outside spaces) or replaced with shared developments (again, often showing greater regard for profit than for creating wise or beautiful dwellings), it seems economic realities are pushing people towards having to ignore or infringe upon others through little fault of their own (see also, Values and the economic).

Does it matter if we live in a way that encourages us to disregard others? Where your desire to “do as you please” comes at the cost of another’s “quiet enjoyment” of their own space? As explored in Antisocial behaviour & the young, modern society seems to lack a clear conversation around what’s socially acceptable and how to co-exist happily in common areas; and that cannot be helped by ill-conceived accommodation.

What I’m really talking about is intentions. To me, home and community are places where humans get to “be” and to share that with others; where we can show interest, concern, responsibility, and respect for other people and for our shared spaces. And, as I said to start, this connects to many other discussions such as Community – what it was, what we lost on social change; Reality as a sense check when I talked of hidden impacts; or Attitudes to elder members of society which is essentially about human worth.

In all this, my concern is human realities; and while there are clearly economic forces at play, which I may address at some point, the social consequences cannot be dismissed as insignificant. How we live with one another, create a sense of community, and foster genuine social connections seems a real challenge of modern times; and I wonder whether it’s possible to shape that in a more human direction.

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Is sustainable design an impossibility?

I once read an interview with someone working in the field of sustainable design; and he was saying how of course it would be great if products could be made to last using sustainable resources and so on, but that it didn’t work as a business model. Which seems true enough: modern businesses need an ongoing market so there needs to be change, whether that’s through ageing materials or dated designs. So we have these creative industries churning out new looks each year, each season, each month.

As I wrote in Values and the economic, I just wonder at the deeper wisdom of all this. If a system requires novelty and consumption in order to sustain itself, and therefore cultivates this mind-set of trends, identity and belonging; then how can we avoid creating waste or draining resources? Is the notion of sustainable design more one of window-dressing, that appeals to certain values but ultimately doesn’t attempt to redress the fundamental problem? And do we truly “need” these things, or are these largely manufactured desires that feed on our social desire to belong?

It’s an interesting scenario, and one that ties in with both Relating to cultural benchmarks and How many things are cycles (we could break) in the sense of how culture blends with economics. As humans, it seems we want to belong and find our place in society; we want to relate ourselves to the options presented, crafting an identity and finding personal meaning in the eyes of others and relative to the cultural images surrounding us. There’s a beautiful magic there, but I do wonder to what extent this very human process is being exploited and the needs of the psyche being directed toward the material world of things.

Increasingly, it’s becoming established that “our look” (be that our shoes, interiors, or lifestyle) defines us; thereby locking our sense of identity into our position as consumers. How you decorate your home declares who you are; so keeping a perfectly functioning and good quality kitchen becomes unthinkable because it’s not quite “you”. This natural desire to express our selves has somehow become a fuel for consumerism.

And my intention here isn’t to be critical, because it seems humans are these delightfully unique, creative, and social creatures who long to express who they are and share in this process of exploration and definition. To me, that’s part of humanity and connects in with what I was saying in What makes a good life. But equally, with that post, there’s a question of how we balance our values, our priorities, our needs, and our consequences. What systems are we sustaining – and, in a sense, creating – with the choices we make?

As I’ve found myself saying elsewhere: is it possible to shape a more human system out of the world around us? Do we have little choice but to accept a version of this model whereby we seek identity in products that aren’t made to last, or could these things happen differently?

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Empathy in a world that happily destroys

I want to talk here about the need for understanding and a sense of responsibility towards the human permanency of our actions.

In that context, we find modern phenomena such as cyberbullying (as touched upon in this BBC article on teen suicide) or those seemingly plentiful times when the internet turns on individuals or organisations out of a sort of social justice (see this Guardian review of “So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed”, a book by Jon Ronson). There’s a certain tendency toward being dismissive or carelessly humorous while real lives are at stake; often targeting others for their perceived mistakes, insecurities, or social isolation. And there currently seems both a lack of accountability for this, and also a struggle to cultivate a powerful social response or dialogue around what’s going on.

On a personal note, I truly believe in the Value of each human being despite any mistakes or limitations; and, as in Mirrors we offer one another, I feel there’s immense complexity in the relationships we seek with others and how that relates to our sense of meaning. I also tend to feel that modern society works against this, as in How many aren’t well represented?; to which technology adds even greater challenges (see Reality as a sense check).

Whether we’re talking about the tragedy of anyone losing their life due to online harassment or the professional consequences others have faced due to overheard comments, it seems the internet now employs shame as a powerful form of “social control” with unquestionable human costs.

With any notion of collective social justice, I find myself wondering where this sense of modern morality arises from. Logically, outside of religion or another shared code of behaviour, where is this objective moral framework? We may have legacies of moral judgement: handed down standards we might adhere to. We may have the habit of using social rejection or criticism as tools for behaviour regulation. But I’m not sure we have a modern dialogue on ethics. So is this more a social sport of shaming others: pointing out people who mistakenly or inadvertently found themselves at the mercy of others, not having fully appreciated the consequences?

For me, this idea of social shame is ill-defined. On the one hand, we are surrounded by cultural images objectifying the human form and declaring our freedom to do with it as we wish; on the other, people are held hostage for applying those standards personally. We live in an online world of perpetual opinion and banter, but those who (often unwittingly) step across “a line” can be hounded on a global scale.

As a society, it seems we’re unclear over the values we now operate by; with derogatory comments and unforgiving attitudes having found a place within mainstream conversations. But it also seems to me that we must find the empathy to stand firmly with the right people: to release our judgements and extend the opportunity for people to emerge from their “mistakes” and be greeted with genuine respect.

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Antisocial behaviour & the young

The issue of antisocial behaviour raises its head every once in a while, maybe in the context of violence or of education; so it seems something we collectively need to find a way to address. And, to my mind, this essentially ties in with how we see others and also with how we view the social system we find ourselves within (as explored in Mirrors we offer one another).

Say you’re walking down a street, with a group of young teens heading towards you; and as they pass they cough insults or kick their ball off your feet. Do you try to show the impact of their behaviour in a way that might prove meaningful; or choose not to react, hoping at some point they reflect upon their interactions with others? We live in a society where so much disappears into a non-existent community; schools and families facing bigger challenges.

Or maybe you overhear a child saying something critical about a stranger to the adult they’re with. Should such comments be concealed only out of “politeness” in public, or are deeper values at stake? At what point does an inclusive, respectful, compassionate society cross over into one where we cast an eye of casual judgement over others? As discussed in How many aren’t well represented?, what are socially acceptable attitudes and how conscious are we in the realm of social ethics?

To me, anti-social behaviour – even on this small scale – is troubling in the underlying human attitudes it betrays and also in the sense that, as a society, we will surely have to bear out the consequences. As said above, parents and schools are fighting worthy battles on so many fronts in raising children in these times; but my concern is that, lacking space for time-consuming conversations about society, we might risk leaving people without a sense of why these things matter.

Of course, young people are getting to know their social reality: balancing their perceptions and understandings with what is acceptable to think or say, and what they can get away with. Then those around them respond, giving their behaviour meaning and hopefully imparting values that sustain a healthy society. In the past, it seems social standards were more commonly held – families, schools, communities and individuals could reaffirm shared values and be confident of others standing by them – creating fairly consistent messages. Now, values seem increasingly subjective, with confusion and anger over who has the right or duty to respond.

Looking at the bigger picture – with compassion and concern – I just don’t think we’re helping younger generations by not having a clear sense of social ethics; and I don’t feel we’re helping society in the long-term by avoiding the difficulties of establishing dialogue around such issues. In situations where I’ve been the one who didn’t correct that unkind statement, I’ve felt I let both people down: the child by not giving a clear affirmation of human worth and the other by not standing by them as a human being.

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Literature where West meets East

Rather than a thorough literature review, this post considers a few books where Western and Eastern thought intersect. And in using those terms, I’m talking loosely about Western civilisation’s objective, scientific approach; alongside the counterpoint of Eastern spiritual philosophy or belief.

As discussed in Spirituality since the 80s and then in Mindfulness, antidote to life or way of being, there seems to have been a shift in the West toward the latter part of the twentieth century whereby many have sought a cultural dialogue with Eastern ideas. Here we could talk about the spiritual movements of the 60s and 70s, or the more recent incarnations of mindfulness or modern spiritual literature and so on.

This could be characterised as the West seeking greater soul, meaning, beauty, or recognition for the human spirit; as if we reached a certain point in the development of our civilisation and realised something might be lacking. And of course this isn’t limited to a dialogue with Eastern philosophy; there’s also the rich wisdom of indigenous peoples or the revival of various folk traditions that pre-existed Western ways.

In looking at texts that embody this interchange between Western and Eastern thinking, I’ve had in mind “Towards a New World View” which compiles conversations between Russell E DiCarlo and various others; “The Ending of Time” charting dialogue between David Bohm and J Krishnamurti; and “The Art of Happiness” based on exchanges between the Dalai Lama and Dr Howard Cutler.

In a way, it’s interesting that these books all take a conversational format; and each one is a fascinating model of communication between divergent worldviews attempting mutual understanding. Many of those DiCarlo interviews draw on ideas from Eastern thought in seeking to address Western challenges; and much that takes place there is a discussion of terms, concepts and values across different cultural or personal experiences. Then Dr Cutler’s work with the Dalai Lama seeks to relate the deep yet simple perspectives of Tibetan Buddhism to the psychological approach of the Western mind; it’s insightful to witness these two ways of understanding human realities grapple to come to terms with one another.

Building on that, the talks between Bohm and Krishnamurti then raise these same polarities of thought into a heightened and lively meeting of minds. David Bohm, a theoretical physicist who worked closely with Einstein, seeks and finds common ground with the philosophical spirituality of Jiddu Krishnamurti. It’s a truly fascinating dialogue about the nature of thought, the human condition, and how we interact with life. It’s also a wonderful example of an exploratory conversation between completely different ways of thinking, as this highly intelligent yet open Western mind reaches through the veil and comes face to face with a much more mystical way of viewing things.

It would disrupt the flow of this post to attempt to quote or encapsulate these disparate and developed lines of thought, but I highly recommend these writers for anyone seeking to experience more of this often exciting and worthwhile cultural conversation.

Reference: “Towards a New World View: Conversations on the Leading Edge” edited by Russell E. DiCarlo, (Floris Books, UK), 1996.

Reference: “The Ending of Time” by J Krishnamurti & Dr David Bohm, (Harper San Francisco), 1997.

Reference: “The Art of Happiness. A Handbook for Living” by HH Dalai Lama & Howard C. Cutler, (Coronet Books, Hodder & Stoughton), 1998.

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Education’s place within Society

This could go a number of ways. So far in talking about education I’ve sketched out some challenges (Education, Society & the Individual), and then taken a broader philosophical view (Writings on Education); which leads me here.

I could take the perspective of how education arose and progressed toward the form we now know; looking at industrialisation, welfare, and the changing nature of a system seeking to extricate learning from its religious trappings, redress inequality, and build a stable and “successful” society. In that light, possibly looking at the increasing power of market forces; attempts at social engineering; or a systemic model that seems to subsume education into the balance sheet of social economics as a whole.

Alternatively, I could focus on the perception of education and the status it holds within society: the social value we place on learning, knowledge, self-development, independence, and understanding. The esteem in which educators are held and the respect accorded them by legislators, parents, or the young. Maybe asking what social attitudes are developing towards the privilege of education and the creative responsibility of both knowledge and power; and to what extent we are using these precious resources wisely, reverently, respectfully.

Without knowledge of the path humanity has taken, of the fierce physical or intellectual battles fought for the bodies of understanding we hold, on what ground does society stand? Are we happy to detach ourselves self-assuredly from what’s gone before, looking only to our own economic opportunities and various illusions of security? What is the right way to relate ourselves to life, unfold our capacities, and rightly assess the world we are walking into and those we find around us?

Of course, education fits within society and our collective sense of what’s important; and in facing up to the myriad developments of recent history, we undoubtedly face challenges and consequences.

To offer my perspective, I wish education could be freer; for example, from external influences such as economics or government policy. Because, for me, the knowledge and understanding spoken of above is a neutral asset. I don’t see education as merely funnelling new people into existing social and economic systems; but as equipping them to fully understand, appreciate, critique, and reshape that society. Without that degree of freedom, independence, and responsibility I’m unsure society can be truly resilient or responsive.

It seems we must recreate the basis for society with each generation, else face losing the threads that inform and sustain our way of life. As explored in “Education’s End”, we exist at the end of a chain of reasoning; the resultant ideas having formed society. Our systems aren’t perfect, and paths taken have often been flawed and beset with unforeseen implications; all this is simply the best attempts of the past at shaping reality in line with our ideals.

Education, to my mind, stands in relation to a society that must constantly evolve while remaining aware of its past; with this comes the immense responsibility of understanding, accepting, and confidently moving forward.

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Mirrors we offer one other

In looking to conceptualise self, identity and human relationship, I tend to fall back on the idea of mirrors: that we reflect what we see in others; seeing what we have come to know through experience, education or culture.

I suppose we ourselves are formed by such social interactions; by internalising ideas as to what is best, how to be in the world, and what it all means. Surely family, culture, life experiences, friendships and interests inform our sense of personal meaning and value, either in the positive or the negative. Then it seems we view the world accordingly, seeing what’s familiar or what we’re able to understand.

As explored in Writings on Education, society in its various guises can be seen to offer us a set of reference points which we adopt in understanding the world around us physically, socially, emotionally, historically and so on. So we think with the ideas imparted to us, finding our place in the world – an essential frame we might hold strongly, react against, or seek to expand.

In a way, it seems we think with the self, shaped by what we’ve become and met in the world. Leading on from that, I imagine this relates to self-worth: that our sense of value or status rests in the moral or social estimations we measured ourselves against. It often seems we judge or perceive others by our internalised standards and the meaning we assign to their actions (see, for example, Relating to cultural benchmarks or How many aren’t well represented?).

This has veered off into slightly more philosophical territory than intended, but my essential point is that it seems we go through life with this sense of self that forms a foundation for our understanding, relating others to what we know in ourselves, and reflecting back to them our level of understanding and sense of valuation.

Put another way, our perspective seems to reside within this inner landscape of meaning; a space peopled by what we’ve encountered and made our own. What we know well expands that view, but less familiar things we may find harder to understand or appreciate.

In the past, with its more limited palette of the known and the unknown, I imagine this all served to maintain the framework of society: you knew “your place” and the meaning of things, so could relate fairly confidently to those around you (as in Community – what it was, what we lost). Now that our societies are so wonderfully diverse, the sense of meaning is surely much more diffuse and our shared experiences necessarily fewer. So the same process may be becoming a source of division or conflict; a significant obstacle to communication.

This is an idea I’ll come back to at some stage, as it connects with many other areas; my intent here was merely to explore this notion of a reciprocal relationship between the individual and society, wondering where it may lead in terms of how we live and relate to one another.

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Mindfulness, antidote to life or way of being

In Spirituality since the 80s I spoke of belief within a meaningless world, and how trends such as meditation could be seen as an escape or a means of offsetting modern living. But can these practices offer more than merely a convenient repackaging of ancient wisdom in a form that assuages yet sustains our way of life?

Essentially, we’re talking about a strengthening of the awareness behind thinking, and the capacity to detach somewhat from the thoughts or feelings that often occupy our waking mind. The practice of mindfulness seems to have arisen from Buddhism (or possibly within other spiritual traditions), and recently been revived in its capacity to support or rebalance aspects of modern life. Whether within the context of mental health concerns or more broadly within mainstream culture, this has found a place among the tools at our disposal for managing our lives.

As discussed with regard to The ideas of Eckhart Tolle, it seems the value lies in suggesting a different pace of being or another way of relating to existence. Tolle’s writings – as those of Krishnamurti – model alternative ways of thinking about thinking, and seek to break the hold current thought patterns have over us. Whether this is through meditation, techniques for redirecting our thoughts, or practices such as walking and colouring; the essence seems to be in calming the mind and letting certain things simply pass us by.

What intrigues me most is how spiritual ideas have stepped into this role of mitigating the strains of society; often becoming something we adopt ad hoc rather than as an end in themselves. As mentioned in Happiness and modern life, there seems to be a sense that our way of living requires certain mental adjustments on a human level.

In How many things are cycles (we could break) I reflected on ways modern civilisation seems to depend on certain patterns of thought or consumption; and if there’s any real interest in breaking these. It seems to me sometimes that society undermines our worth: telling us we need more; that our personal or social standing rests on many things outside of ourselves.

What is this system we exist within? Schumacher spoke in “Small is Beautiful” about how maybe our society doesn’t truly want balance and peace. Within a predominantly economic system, it seems there’s little call to resolve problems so much as to offer a temporary remedy (see Values and the economic). Are the solutions we say we’re seeking possible within such a society?

One of the unspoken questions arising from the post on cycles was, What would it mean to break them? And my thoughts on Tolle led in a way to asking, What would it mean to be awake? So here, What might mindfulness offer us as a completely different way of being? Spiritual practices seem to re-emerge at times as these convenient offerings to serve our way of life; but could they be part of something larger, that might not require such checks and balances?

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How many things are cycles (we could break)

It seems in modern life that we live in strange relationship to the world around us. We spend vast amounts on makeup to ‘look our best’, then need to spend almost the same again on cleansing or beauty regimes to redress the damage. Or we indulge in food or wine ‘because we’ve earned it’, but then need to work that off through suffering, deprivation or the endurance of a fitness regime. Is this imbalance – and the cyclical way of life that ensues – simply how things are or could it change?

With consumption, it seems many of these things cancel one another out. This could be seen as part of a larger pattern of creating problems we then need to solve, but it seems to work out well economically. As in Values and the economic, this lifestyle seems sensible in terms of making money; in that light, reinforcing cycles work better than a life of harmonious balance. If the ways we live become mutually dependent – the demand for one thing creating the need for another – then culture can work hand in hand with capitalism (see Relating to cultural benchmarks and How many aren’t well represented?).

In a way, this is one of the fundamental patterns of life. Looking to religion, we find Shiva, the Hindu god linked with both creation and destruction. Or there’s the Taoist concept of yin and yang: the balance of opposites that makes life possible; the complex relationship between chaos and harmony. Maybe these cycles are inherent to life or, more specifically, to material existence.

But what does it mean for us? We’re not eating to excess in order to support the fitness industry; we’re trying to live a meaningful life, to find our place in human society, to feel good about ourselves. I don’t feel that human beings seek imbalance or the psychology that often accompanies the need for much of this. I think we seek meaning, belonging, harmony, wholeness. Perhaps we also seek differentiation: to be better than others, to stand out. It seems it’s this that is being capitalised upon, rather than the fulfilment of genuine human needs.

While on a natural level such cycles are part of life, as indicated in ancient teachings, I wonder to what extent they’re suited to human existence. Our cycles of behaviour or consumption often seem linked with the psyche: with the social need to belong and hold meaning in the eyes of others. I’m just unsure these cycles of modern living are in our best interests or those of the environment (see Living the dream, Waste and consumer choices, or “Small is Beautiful”).

Essentially, what I’m saying is that maybe we’re worth more than we’re being told; and that our value as humans need not be linked to things, to these patterns of indulgence, avoidance, suffering and judgement. Our culture could uplift us, rather than bringing us to compare or to criticise. Are there other ways to co-exist on this earth, should we choose our values differently?

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The ideas of Eckhart Tolle

Following on from my sketching out of Spirituality since the 80s, I will talk here about the phenomenon of Eckhart Tolle and how that relates to modern spiritual literature and trends of spiritual practice.

Tolle’s writing has clearly been astoundingly popular and successful, which is interesting in itself given the nature of modern society. It seems there’s still a market for those seeking to explore meaning, inner life, and alternatives to traditional forms of belief or spiritual existence. For me, the value of his writing is largely in how it consistently embodies a different perspective on self and the mind; articulating this through written style and everyday example.

It’s essentially a single message: the separation of consciousness from thought; of identity from thinking; of meaning from perception. He’s speaking of consciousness, the aware presence behind thought. As if he had this profound experience of personal suffering that led him to fully appreciate that distinction, and be in a position to articulate it clearly and consistently in a variety of ways.

Some criticise his writings as repetitive and without substance, but to me that’s the point: he’s saying the same thing, describing all the ways in which we identify with our thinking, encouraging us to detach from the relentlessly spinning mind. Maybe it’s something that needs saying over and over. Simple as it may be, this is clearly still a message our civilisation struggles with; the thinking mind resists it. Our society is so interwoven with logical thought that his ideas still stand as a powerful challenge; pointing out the illusion of clinging, as the teachings of the East traditionally have.

With any spiritual writing, there seems to be the difficulty of matching expectations to what’s possible with a book. Tolle seems to do a wonderful job of articulating a certain perspective; but where does it go from there? I’m not sure spirituality is something you can download into a passive mind, hence the idea of spiritual practices: that we must apply ideas to reach a personal growth and understanding. So it seems books such as these aren’t an end in themselves, but offer a state of awareness that you then have to decide what to do with. Tolle himself talks of this awareness then experiencing a deepening, which possibly then changes how we choose to participate in life.

What do you do once you no longer identify with your thoughts and ideas about life? As explored in Writings on Education and “Towards a New World View”, our lives in a sense hold around this invisible centre of our beliefs. So how do you live once you see the ways in which we hold to stories about self, life, meaning, security? Can any writings fully answer that question and encapsulate a recipe of living; and, if they did, would we accept one? If writers such as Eckhart Tolle are reminding us to “wake up”, maybe the next step is simply to be awake and to find out what that means.

Reference: “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle, (Hodder and Stoughton, London), 1999. “A New Earth” by Eckhart Tolle (Penguin Books, London), 2005.

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