Stories that bind us

Our cultural life’s clearly full of stories – themes, arcs and plot points that blend their way into our lives both personally and collectively. Imaginary people and storylines that can become as real as life itself: characters we see as peers, relating to or modelling ourselves on them, feeling as if their story were ours and our life gains meaning through their echo.

It’s intriguing, how imaginative we are. Seeing our experiences represented there, we feel understood or as if we have a place – that we “fit” and can find our home here. This way that culture can draw us together, demonstrating affinity and all we have in common. Almost a sense of wrapping a cloak around us, including people within the folds of community.

Isn’t it one of the social functions of cultural life? To create bonds of togetherness through the stories we tell. To recast our lives through the lens of its narratives, shaping identities and offering belonging (Notes One). Historically, it seems culture helped define groups against those around them – establishing common history, shared interpretations, agreed upon ways to think or act.

As if culture were the storyline of community: those events or themes considered relevant, the types of people deemed admirable, the paths seen as progress. Relating ourselves to such products, we take our place within the social narrative to make peace with its evaluations or work our way toward changing them.

Because, what if ideas are mistaken? What if stories are as divisive as they are uniting? What if judgements being cast over, say, the elderly or the less conventionally attractive are socially dangerous concepts to embrace? What if, for commercial or other reasons, we’re inundated with unhelpful or even damaging notions of what it is to be human and the value within society?

Culture might well bind us together, but surely it can quite equally bind us to constrictive, exclusive, inhuman ideas? If ideas are as seeds – small, powerful, creative notions that can grow out through our lives – where might seemingly insignificant assumptions, slights or inferences of human worth lead? Are tiny, mistaken notions slipping through our filters that might develop to concerning social proportions?

It’s a strange thought, perhaps, but it seems it might be worth considering (Notes Two). Is our cultural consumption healthy? As in, this sense of moving in the direction of wholeness. Do our stories tend toward healthy integration, personally and socially? Are they making us more human or less – inclining us to the best or worst of our capacities?

Looking back, it seems stories were once used almost as food: nourishing relationships as well as the psyche, encouraging balanced understanding of the world and our place within it. These days, we’re more often driven toward dissatisfaction: locked into the perpetual consumption of “more” in order to feel better about ourselves and our social status.

Why exactly modern culture seems so superficial, frequently undermining human value instead of encouraging us all to develop the best of ourselves, is interesting to contemplate.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Culture as what we relate to
Note 1: Definition, expression & interpretation
Note 1: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 1: Do we know what stands before us?
Note 1: Absolute or relative value
Note 2: “Wisdom” by Andrew Zuckerman
Note 2: Can we solve our own problems?
Note 2: Cycles of mind & matter
Note 2: Do we know what we’re doing?

Although approached from a different perspective, “Women who run with the wolves” addresses this idea of using stories to nourish the soul.

Ways to share this:

Culture as what we relate to

In many ways, culture seems the place we go to find meaning for our lives, echoes of how we’re living and the choices we’re making. A sounding board, perhaps, for our own ideas, the ideas of others, and ideas that society itself is finding valuable.

So, of course, it makes a difference what we’re paying attention to, whether that’s Hollywood and mainstream culture, its alternative fringes, or something a shade more traditional. If these are the ideas we’re taking on board, making the reference points for our lives, trusting to guide us wisely through all we meet, then it must matter which influences we’re heeding (Notes One). It surely plays itself out?

As ever, it’s easy to get tied in knots trying to figure out which ideas or attitudes are concerning and which are nothing to worry about. Lost in that timeless conversation around what’s important, what’s impacting us, and who to trust with our inner lives or the collective life of society (Notes Two). How much do thoughts shape us? The subtle assumptions or examples nestling down into the fertile soil of existence.

It’s interesting how culture’s such a fundamental part of life, historically and currently, yet “how it works” is a bit of a mystery. It’s this broad range of ideas, images and activities that inform how we’re spending our time, the ways we’re seeing and relating to one another, the conversations we have and judgements we’re forming. It’s what we’re talking about, thinking over, making our own.

And that’s just fascinating: the stories and interests that people our minds, becoming what we seek to emulate and those we’re happy to vilify or make light of. This whole world of reference points and unspoken social assessments that effectively builds up our sense of what’s acceptable, admirable, and so on. Throughout our lives, becoming this place we look to understand our worth or meaning for others.

A strange mirror, of sorts, reflecting upon reality but adding to it with its own layer of themes, narratives, messages – spinning our world into something that resembles it, but not quite truly (Notes Three). Surely, we all want to know we’re valued? That we have our place within society and are being fairly or compassionately represented within that realm. It means a lot that we’re included, understood, appreciated.

Clearly, this is a convoluted, complex kind of subject. Does culture serve to define us, offering the palette of choices from which to choose, or is it the place our identity finds recognition? Is it this behavioural regulator, seeking to shame or coerce us toward meeting its ideals? Does it act truthfully, aspirationally, or to shock us into responding?

Looking at culture in terms of its pockets, rather than as a whole, it seems feasible we could all find the reflection, belonging and validation we’re after: a subculture, somewhere, will accommodate us. Whether, beyond that, there’s a more universal, inclusive attempt at human meaning seems an elusive goal that, perhaps, is well worth investing in.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Meaning in culture
Note 1: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 1: It resonates, but should it be amplified
Note 1: Culture as reflection
Note 1: Do we know what we’re doing?
Note 2: Caught in these thoughts
Note 2: Ways thought adds spin to life
Note 2: Who should we trust?
Note 3: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 3: What’s neutral?

Ways to share this:

Definition, expression & interpretation

It can be said that culture serves to define us, let us express ourselves, and help us interpret the meaning of others and the society we’re living within. Among other things, I’d imagine, but nonetheless those seem some of its main purposes and functions.

Like a code, a common language of accepted patterns of behaviour and thinking to help in making sense of life, finding our place, figuring out where we stand, what our options are, how to read the world, and ways things might play out. This idea, perhaps, of being actors, adopting parts, playing our cards right to get what we’re after. Be that company, power, acceptance, praise, or whatever else.

Through this lens, culture’s then that which gives us the terms for defining who we are, allowing us to express that self in recognised forms, and deciphering what we encounter. It’s this sense of meaning – the overlay society places on complex realities so we can interpret things in similar ways then play into that world of meaning with our own choices and behaviours (Notes One).

It seems a fascinating process: flowing fairly freely in a number of directions, a powerful reflexive ever-changing set of pictures, actions and reactions that play upon society itself and each of our lives. It must shape people, after all, to see how clearly or respectfully their lives are reflected there. What is it that’s being said? Where are we assigning value or refusing to acknowledge any?

In the past, such collective conversations were guided with quite a firm hand: interpretations, conclusions and labels clearly indicated and upheld by society’s various power-holders (Notes Two). Looking back, there were clear voices saying “this is the way to be” which people generally seemed to heed.

More recently, that tradition of authority has waned while the diversity of society has flourished. Perhaps “because” that authority has loosened we are now free to follow our own paths and express who we truly feel ourselves to be? Maybe people have always been multifaceted creatures, completely unique in their combination of experiences and traits, but we’d been forced into these strict simplifications.

It raises so many questions. Are we the way we are because we see it affirmed and accept it as a viable option? Or, regardless of options, do we simply need the freedom to express our true being? What is it we’re all part of here, and how well does it serve individuals or community? Does this meld well with everyday social realities? Is it potentially hindering more than it helps? (Notes Three)

Lately, it seems we’re, again, approaching life with these preconceived notions of what looks, wealth or demeanour “say” about people. Can culture encourage us toward anything other than superficial evaluations, given its symbolic nature? Can it push beneath that surface to awaken greater awareness of what’s there?

If we’re multifaceted, jewel-like, could culture become like that? What would it look like if culture embraced everyone with recognition, celebration and acceptance instead of all this?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Living your life through a song
Note 1: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 1: Absolute or relative value
Note 1: Culture as reflection
Note 2: What is acceptable?
Note 2: Ideas that tie things together
Note 2: Meaning in culture
Note 3: It resonates, but should it be amplified
Note 3: Does anything exist in isolation?
Note 3: Love of self

Ways to share this:

Living your life through a song

Music, obviously, can be seen as the soundtrack to our lives. Personally and collectively, it can be a force that unites us through the expression, exploration or creation of shared experiences (Notes One). It’s strange – this mysterious activity whereby sound connects with emotion, effectively drawing us out of ourselves and into this slightly different space – but quite beautiful in its potential.

It’s something that often comes to define us. Music tending to be a bridge whereby we uncover affinity with others, sharing our love of bands or genres, bonding ourselves to that group and all that comes with it. Also, more personally, shaping our inner lives by way of songs that resonate: speaking to our emotions, reaching in to echo our experiences or validate our sense of self, becoming part of who we are.

Perhaps, then, becoming the tracks our lives take as we make our way through whatever we’re dealing with toward what we’ve fixed our heart upon. Songs we might return to over the years that chart the landscape of our lives, evoking the depths of our being – who we were, are, hoped to become. Social and emotional reflections of paths we’ve walked, the arc of our development, our soul and all that’s marked it.

Is this wise? Are these songs serving as poetry – complex, true, trustworthy containers of human experience that help us in processing a delicate soul life? Where do these paths lead us? Into dead ends, wallowing pools of self-validation that seek to make an identity of suffering, leaving us trapped in the prisons carved around us? Routes for integrating and releasing our experiences? Is music therapeutic or pathological?

And this isn’t intending to be critical, simply exploratory: what is it we’re doing here? If we were to see music as medicine for the soul, what approach are we taking? On a personal level or the social one, are we reinforcing wounds or healing them? What is this process of reflection, resonance, identity that we’re getting from culture? Are our cultural reference points signs of sickness or of healing?

As with any discussion of culture, I tend toward thinking it’s a question of how we approach things – whether we accept them as they appear on the surface or dig a little deeper for what’s going on underneath (Notes Two).

We unquestionably live in an imperfect world but, that being the case, do we embrace the dark or the light? Do we go into the darkness, indulge it, make ourselves a home there? Or might we seek to counteract it with light somehow? Does this become some form of reconciliation, reworking, release? Maybe culture either tends toward the light or the dark? Burrowing into our difficulties or seeking to bring them out to the light of day.

And listening to Elliott Smith, Karma Chameleon or Morcheeba must make quite a difference. If the tracks we’re selecting might be serving us this way, it seems to become a question of how we’re then navigating our inner lives.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Music and its power to inspire
Note 1: Busking as a gift
Note 2: Culture as reflection
Note 2: It resonates, but should it be amplified
Note 2: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 2: Do we know what we’re doing?
Note 2: Playing with fire?

Ways to share this:

Do we know what we’re doing?

When it comes to culture – all the ideas, images, thoughts we’re entertaining in our minds – I often find myself wondering if we really know what we’re doing. I mean, we can think and watch all manner of things, but where does it lead us and is that wise?

I suppose it comes down to the significance of what we have in mind. Does it matter? Are our heads simply these filters, these torchlights or screens where it’s really not important what’s passing in front of or through them? If something’s “out there”, are we right to take it all in and reflect upon it or is there some need for discernment in how we’re directing our thoughts? (Notes One)

It seems important to question how we’re using our minds. Clearly, they’re there. Like it or not, they’re constantly absorbing and processing all that’s going on around us – drawing conclusions, forming opinions, having reactions, awakening memories, all these often-subconscious internal processes whereby “the mind” apparently seeks to help us make sense of life.

Within all that, we then have “culture” which seems to be this more intentional collective process of reflection that’s, in some way, seen to serve society as well as individuals (Notes Two). It’s seemingly this place where we mull over all that’s gone before and all that might follow; pulling together all these ideas from society, different times and places, and arranging them differently to see what meaning might emerge.

It’s perhaps this space where people with a degree of vision identify those issues concerning society, placing them into some form of relief so we’re better able to notice their significance and how they relate to what’s around them. It’s a strange process, in many ways, and hard to pin down. But it’s surely some form of thought, as we attempt to make sense of and respond to our world.

And maybe its value then lies in those responses? That added layer of interpretation, awareness or conversation that serves to mitigate or mediate its influence? Almost a process of digestion, whereby we reflect upon what’s actually being said about society and what our response to that should actually be. This potentially highly significant additional stage of mental processing (Notes Three).

Otherwise, what exactly are we allowing into our minds? All these images of society’s problems, risks, challenges, and so forth? So many depictions of disaster, evil, conflict or disregard for the value of life. Of course, that’s not all that’s there, but it certainly seems to form an increasingly large proportion of what’s offered within modern culture.

What does it mean to see such images and entertain such thoughts? Is it priming us with fear, readying us to see society’s ideals falling further into disrepair, or calling up in us a sense of awareness and commitment that might lead us to defend such principles? If our minds are the places we make sense of life and decide on our courses of action, are we truly using them wisely?

Notes and References:

Note 1: What are we thinking?
Note 1: Who should we trust?
Note 1: What’s neutral?
Note 2: Culture as reflection
Note 2: It resonates, but should it be amplified
Note 2: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 2: Truth, illusion & cultural life
Note 2: Playing with fire?
Note 3: Do we need meaning?
Note 3: The sense of having a worldview
Note 3: Ideas the tie things together

Going even further back, Plato & “The Republic” held some interesting thoughts about the power of ideas.

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The sense of having a worldview

Our lives are clearly saturated by thought: all the ideas we have about ourselves, our lives, others, society, what things mean, and what we should be doing. It’s almost as if, from the moment we’re born, we’re surrounded by all these thoughts about life that make themselves known to us one way or another (Notes One). From that, we’re then building up our own ideas of what life’s about.

It’s interesting to think we carry a world in our heads – all these interpretations, conclusions, assumptions, judgements, views and feelings about it all. Without knowing it, we must “have” a pretty comprehensive set of ideas about everything. Some we might be acutely aware of, spending much of our time living in those thoughts; but some we might’ve barely considered, letting them lodge up there all unexamined.

Maybe it’s just a personal thing? As in, that the contents of our heads are simply our own business. But it must spill out into the world around us, into the choices we’re making economically and beliefs we’re acting on socially, for example. Our thoughts seem to necessarily inform our habits and decisions in life, thereby serving to build up our personal and collective realities.

So, it seems, perhaps, advisable to have a fairly solid overview of all that’s going on: a realistic, workable, flexible understanding of human society, its functions and history, our current activities, and any problems there may be (Notes Two). How else are we to rightly judge all the decisions falling in our laps? Do we just apply logic, out of context, disregarding that bigger picture into which everything undeniably fits?

How we see the world seems so very important. We might look at it from our personal, social, national perspectives – through the lens of our own sense of identity and belonging – or we could seek a more global view of all the systems we’re involved with. Because it certainly seems, in every area of life, that our realities are increasingly crossing traditional boundaries into a more all-inclusive space (Notes Three).

Can we then develop a “worldview” capable of encompassing all that’s going on while still accepting that our field of activity and influence is generally quite localised to those personal, social, national realities? Is such an overarching perspective possible, without becoming superficial and not giving everything the weight it really deserves?

What would it mean to have such a picture in mind – a framework against which we could compassionately and confidently evaluate all life throws at us? If we understood the context, agenda and motivation of those operating within the various areas of our lives – cultural, political, economic, social – and were able to judge what they were saying and who to truly trust?

It’s an idea, I suppose, of a broadly and evenly educated body of people, capable of judging wisely and responding well to all the freedoms of modern life. A sense of information and awareness within which we care deeply about every situation we’re playing a part in.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Common knowledge
Note 1: Able to see what matters?
Note 1: Culture as reflection
Note 2: All that’s going on around us
Note 2: Strange arrogance of thought
Note 2: Value in being informed
Note 2: Interdependency
Note 3: Concerns over how we’re living
Note 3: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 3: Convergence and divergence

Picking up on that closing thought around freedom and responsibility was one thread of Questions around choice.

Ways to share this:

“Minding the Earth, Mending the World”

It’s getting to the point where there’s so much being written and said in the world that it’s almost impossible to keep abreast of it all. Bookshops and websites are full to the brim of all we should be aware of, care about, and act upon. It’s overwhelming to think of all we have to ignore or filter out in order to actually function in this reality.

But it’s also great that people can share their views, passions and concerns in the hope they might in some way help others. It just needs a degree of discernment, I guess, in terms of what we put out in the world as much as what we take in (Notes One). There’s so much we could care about, with the risk it might become a paralysing conversation of mutually deafening voices and emotions.

Within all that, there are those focussing in on humanity’s relationship with nature, how that’s playing out, and whether we need to change our ways (Notes Two). Surely an important topic, as without a hospitable place to live there’s presumably very little life to be had? But it’s not easy to address: to encapsulate the complexity of our environment or inspire people to make significant life-changes.

And, in that vein, Susan Murphy’s “Minding the Earth, Mending the World” seems an insightful, thorough, heart-felt exploration of where humanity now stands. The book, among other things, considers the idea that “crisis and salvation are inside each other” – that “what is so urgently being called up in us flows naturally from daring to welcome a hard reality”.

Essentially, that where we stand and the problems presenting themselves are precisely what we need to engage with. That “if we manage to accept the challenge, the intense rigour of responding to this great question of our time can wake up forgotten parts of ourselves and usher in our maturity as a species”.

This perspective seems valuable in that it’s conceptualising our position as not only one of ‘letting go’ but also ‘moving forward’ as we responsibly, intelligently engage with the realities being communicated to us. This sense of needing to fully understand; to appreciate where we might’ve been going wrong; to discard ideas that don’t serve us in the long-run; and place ourselves more harmoniously within our environment (Notes Three).

It’s a powerful book that speaks with an informed, accessible, yet fiery voice into a highly complex and emotive topic. Striking that balance between practical realism and constructive optimism is tough, but Murphy doesn’t shy away from describing the concerning challenges we’re facing while also deeply affirming the importance of our understanding and engagement.

We’re talking about “rebellion of the heart” and how “this can be a huge and difficult adventure that will bring out the magnificence of human beings”; blending science, observation and Zen koans into a comprehensive, impassioned cry for change that speaks as much to reason as emotion. Also, beautiful for its seeking to empower rather than undermine human agency and worth.

Notes and References:

“Minding the Earth, Mending the World: The offer we can no longer refuse” by Susan Murphy, (Picador, Sydney), 2012.

Note 1: Value in being informed
Note 1: Concerns over how we’re living
Note 1: What are we thinking?
Note 2: “Small is Beautiful”
Note 2: “Ecological Intelligence”
Note 2: “New Renaissance”
Note 3: Ideas that tie things together
Note 3: How important is real life?
Note 3: And, how much can we care?

For my own views on nature, there’s Some thoughts about ‘life’ which links back to much I’ve written over the last few years.

Ways to share this:

Culture as reflection

Culture could perhaps be viewed as this giant looking-glass; a complex reflection of meaning, values and practices that helps sustain society in big and little ways.

It’s that place where inner meets outer, where our inner lives find recognition and where we encounter the ways of the world. As if culture stands at that line where we touch the world and attempt to make sense of it all. Like a world running alongside ours that’s sometimes working symbolically, sometimes reflecting on social realities, and often mixing both as it plants its seeds for the future (see Notes One).

Within that world, we might find or lose ourselves. It’s presumably a picture that can validate, affirm and uplift or destroy through its representations of our lives? Dealing, as it does, with both the forms of our reality and the more metaphorical exploration of themes and qualities, it’s surely walking lines that are wisest to tread carefully.

I mean, in life there’s always that question of what we perceive then what it means. If culture’s the place we assign and explore meaning, it seems important to exercise caution. Drawing parallels between external qualities and inner ones – that visual code of art – can have serious social impacts; linking looks with goodness or age with relevance could spill over into ‘real world’ attitudes.

It’s interesting, because arguably culture is where we get our ideas for living: social meanings are brought to us through stories we’re told and conversations we’re having about them, informing our thoughts and the paths we choose to walk in life (Notes Two). It’s shaping us all through the journeys it’s taking us on, the preoccupations and characters that are filling our lives this way.

Often, it might be taking the forms of modern life – the problems, realities and choices we face – and using them as its ‘language’, but it’s also doing something different. So, it might seem like a mirror, but at a certain point that reflection merges into the world of ideas and plays with them in ways that might bear little relationship to reality or be particularly helpful when applied to it.

Of course, that raises the question of whether culture ‘should’ be a mirror – if that’s actually its function. Is it offering us the opportunity to reflect upon our lives, understand our values, find ourselves within it? Or does it represent a more subtle relationship between thought and reality, which then works into our personal and social realities?

It’s undoubtedly a wonderful tool for broadening horizons: bringing different times and places to life; exploring ways of being human; peopling our worlds with ideas and images. Universal personal experiences of life, identity, relationship, choice, action can be delved into; potentially uniting us by way of insight into our shared humanity, beyond life’s many divisions. These days, becoming a veritable tidal wave of awareness (Notes Three).

These are perhaps questions too large to do justice to here, but they do seem important ones to get to grips with somehow.

Notes and References:

Note 1: What does art have to say about life?
Note 1: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 1: Playing with fire?
Note 2: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 2: Working through mind & society
Note 2: How we feel about society
Note 3: All that’s going on around us
Note 3: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 3: Who should we trust?
Note 3: In the deep end…

On a similar note, The power of understanding looked at the importance of what we keep in mind.

Ways to share this:

It resonates, but should it be amplified

While we might not fully understand it, we’re clearly emotional creatures: living gives rise to responses on the level of feeling, as we process situations in that way. It’s as if we can view life with the eyes of the mind, or those of the heart. That may be a confronting reality for the predominantly rational West, but it’s an interesting one to try and work with skilfully.

Because the heart doesn’t seem to have that clear a place within conversations of the mind; its voice often being dismissed as irrational, sentimental, hysterical, or ultimately unproductive. As if feelings are this passing wave that’ll even out with judicious application of more logical wisdom. As if emotion isn’t a valid way of reading life, understanding events, and responding with the full depth of our humanity.

Yet feelings also hold a strong position within modern life, particularly in the realm of culture: music, films, literature all tapping into that wellspring of our heart-felt connection with life and one another. And then, slightly differently, through the reactions of the media conversation: that echoing of events through the mouthpieces of news organisations, echoed again through the world’s social media response.

Within those cultural conversations, the heart seems to find a place. But is it a wise place? A skilful use of feeling? An avenue that’ll lead emotion toward becoming a powerful, considered voice within local and global communities?

It often seems to struggle to progress much beyond an indignant, strangled scream. At times it seems to pool together into something we make an identity of; the grooves of our patterned responses to life and the affinity that can create with others. Which, perhaps, might be seen as a commodification or containment of feeling’s power.

But, if modern life’s giving rise to strong feelings, what ‘is’ the right way of handling them? Do waves of reaction simply become these self-reflexive amplifications of anger, despair, sadness or joy? Does culture become a venue for dwelling in our emotions and the social realities inspiring them, placing us in these perpetual echo-chambers of our own feelings? Is letting ‘all that’ define us the correct path? (Notes One)

As I said at the start, the extent to which we understand emotion’s place and work with it purposefully within our personal and social lives is one of many interesting challenges to being human. We ‘have’ emotions, but that doesn’t mean we automatically know what to make of them. And it also doesn’t follow that modern culture knows the best ways to capitalise on the heart’s value for the good of society (Notes Two).

Thinking we know what’s best for us, or that what we’re offered are wise and constructive paths, seems so questionable. Algorithms might be designed to analyse our moods and feed into them, but what is that food? Is it medicine or poison? Are we processing our emotions or becoming trapped within them? Knowing how to direct the heart seems quite essential if we’re hoping to live well.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Masks we all wear
Note 1: What’s a reasonable response?
Note 1: Reference points for how we’re living
Note 1: What are we thinking?
Note 2: Meaning in culture
Note 2: Dystopia as a powerful ideal
Note 2: The power of understanding
Note 2: Playing with fire?

Ideas around the value of emotion were also the focus of Anger as a voice and True words spoken in jest.

Ways to share this:

Matt Haig’s “Notes on a Nervous Planet”

The fairly recent increase in awareness and willingness to discuss the realm of mental health might be one of the brighter lights shining within all the difficulties of modern living. With so much going on that’s difficult to grasp and figure out responses to, investing energy into understanding our minds and the effect life’s having on them seems invaluable.

As part of that, this year’s “Notes on a Nervous Planet” by Matt Haig is a noteworthy contribution. His having lived through and battled toward an understanding of the mental challenges and obstacles of living within modern society has given him hard-won insight and clarity into the workings of the mind and its delicate relationships with reality, existence, and the sense of ourselves.

Taking a deliberately fragmented route through the various problems being thrown up by technology, social media, politics, news, consumerism, and other sources of overwhelm we’re all facing, Haig’s focusing in on what we might make of it all – how best to interact, filter, and determine how we let these things into our precious inner worlds.

And it’s surely one of the most important things to get our heads around? This sense of how the world’s affecting us, of trying to see what’s going on and where the potential risks might be. Rather than charging on and assuming it’ll all be fine, listening to those raising concerns – from within industries themselves or those already experiencing difficulties – seems sensible.

There are many things I genuinely love about this book. How it’s somewhat disjointed yet also clearly organised. That it’s broad and well-informed, but extremely accessible and easy to read. Its conversational tone, striking a rare balance between despair, humour and disarming perspicacity. It’s cutting to the quick of so many modern problems, while remaining curiously optimistic and constructive.

Depression and anxiety are some of life’s darker subjects (“I either needed a new me. Or a new planet. And I didn’t yet know how to find either. Which is why I felt suicidal”), but perhaps that’s partly the mind seeking sense in a dark world (“how can we live in a mad world without ourselves going mad?”). Reality raises hard questions, and establishing balance between honesty and hope is something Haig navigates well.

If the mind and sense of self arise, somehow, through our complex interactions with the world around us, it’s conceivable to view mental difficulties, at least in part, as developmental or environmental concerns (Notes One). Taking such a broad view, unpicking the threads flowing through our individual and shared lives, contemplating the influences acting upon us at a relentless pace is a daunting and admirable task.

Finding the right attitude toward genuine and serious problems is perhaps one of life’s greatest lessons, both personally and socially. It’s something Matt Haig’s clearly spent time grappling with, and I’m truly grateful he’s managed to articulate it this eloquently, powerfully and humorously. Sometimes in life the best you might hope for is to feel a little less alone with such truths.

Notes and References:

“Notes on a Nervous Planet” by Matt Haig, (Canongate, Edinburgh), 2018.

Note 1: How it feels to be alive
Note 1: “Ecological Intelligence”
Note 1: Working through mind & society
Note 1: David Bohm, thoughts on life
Note 1: Conversation as revelation
Note 1: “Paradox of Choice”
Note 1: We’re all vulnerable

Ways to share this: