So, was there really something amiss with me? Even with this notion gnawing at me, I wouldn’t have rewritten a single word of my life’s narrative. It had been perfect just as it was, trials, tribulations, and all. I had learned abundantly, shared generously, and my life had always revolved around educating, healing, and writing. The uncertainty about anything else felt perfectly acceptable.
Having been away from my hometown for years, I missed the opportunity to attend alumni reunions or homecoming events in two decades. Then the Alma Mater invited us to celebrate our 25th medical school graduation anniversary. Out of the original 30 medical students, the 18 of us that graduated together were a spirited group of dreamers, eager to make a difference in the world.
Upon arriving at the gathering, I faced a stark realization that time had indeed marched on. My peers resembled our former professors, not just because they had shed their student attire, but also because each were showing gray hair and a touch of middle-age paunch (not me, I thought). As they shared updates on the years gone by, a second intriguing revelation struck me. Each of them had realized their dreams while I was still navigating the world. Or, as a dear friend in their sixties put it, I was still figuring out what I wanted to be when I grew up. However, no matter how young I felt, I was undeniably an adult. I had been married (and subsequently divorced), raised a remarkable daughter, fulfilled my earlier promise to serve the less fortunate, crisscrossed my country, ventured into the publishing industry, contributed articles to various publications, was on the verge of publishing my first book, had traveled to Canada to become an art therapist, and established a non-profit focused on youth alongside an innovative school.
Choosing Art Therapy as a second career was driven by the desire to add a new approach to my work with young individuals. It also felt like the perfect moment to amalgamate all my passions: to converge the roles of healer, educator, and artist.
Until then, I had never echoed my parents’ concerns about the need to find a “stable and secure life.” Even though I hadn’t amassed much wealth, I was quite content with my learning process and achievements and felt my life had been exceedingly engaging, meaningful.
However, looking at my friends, it struck me how early, at 20 or 22, they had known exactly what they wanted for their lives. Now, in midlife, they appeared accomplished and prosperous.
I had reasons then to suspect that I was an adult grappling with attention deficit disorder. I even consulted my Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM), and some of the criteria did seem to apply. So, was there really something amiss with me? Even with this notion gnawing at me, I wouldn’t have rewritten a single word of my life’s narrative. It had been perfect just as it was, trials, tribulations, and all. I had learned abundantly, shared generously, and my life had always revolved around educating, healing, and writing. The uncertainty about anything else felt perfectly acceptable.
A few years prior to the gathering, fresh from Canada with a wealth of knowledge about mental health stereotypes (apologies: “diagnoses”), I vowed that, in order to become a “fully functional, stable adult,” the time had come for me to settle down. I would reside in the same place for more than the customary average of three to five years in one place, which had been my norm, and devote myself to a single specialty.
Was it truly feasible? Life, it seemed, had other plans for me. Although I did stay put for 13 years, I held three part-time jobs, ran a non-profit, and maintained a private clientele. And then, I relocated to the United States when circumstances grew challenging in my homeland. I started from scratch in Florida, and had to be really creative to make a living. I went to massage school so that I could continue to offer Reiki treatments (had recently become a Reiki Master), I became a Trager practitioner, I got my mental health license after a few years, I became a consultant for a massage school’s continuing education department, created a business to promote holistic healing, wrote for several publications, published a few books, and I opened a Holistic Center in Bonita Springs.
Over time, I came to truly value what I had gleaned from my myriad passions and occupations. I even discovered that there was a label for my type of personality, and that it had gained acceptance, even becoming trendy. They call us Renaissance souls. According to the person credited with coining the term, author Margaret Lobenstine (Secrets of the Renaissance Soul), adaptable souls like us stand a better chance of thriving in a world that’s very fluid. Our diverse passions and experiences have made us adaptable, resilient, and capable of offering more than just a narrow set of skills in the job market.
You may remember. In 2007, we were shocked with the news:
A Southcorean, “Seung-Hui Cho, 23, an English major, killed 32 people and committed suicide at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University in the deadliest shooting rampage in modern U.S. history.”
As we were reminded by this deadly event, anger has the power to ruin families and lead humans to committing unthinkable acts.
In the aftermath of killings like this one, full-size WHYs hammer our mind. Seung-Hui Cho killed his mates without a word of warning. He had enough cold blood to leave the campus after killing two, email his videos and come back to continue with the killings on campus. Do we need to ask why?
It’s easy to excuse ourselves from any responsibility here by saying that this man was sick, that his classmates “innocently” tormented him because of his bizarre behavior and that they could not have anticipated the impact of the bullying on him or that the real origin of his mental health symptoms was in the poisonous effects of chemicals from his family’s dry cleaning business.
In a public statement, his sister said that his family, “never could have envisioned that he was capable of so much violence.”
Why not?
How is it possible that not one single person perceived the magnitude of the anger Cho had bottled in, anger which ended in such a fatal episode? Maybe we have learned to view anger as an inevitable part of life, a human “nature” feature, an emotion that does not necessarily need to be overcome, and that many even accept and justify presenting us with the image of a biblical wrathful Jehovah, or of a loving Jesus who was still capable of enough ire to whip merchants out the Temple.
However, we know better. And from this painful lesson and the many more mass killings that have happened since, we may learn that it would do a lot more good to our society if people understood God and Jesus as synonyms of joy and love and compassion.
Why was Cho so lonely that nobody helped him overcome his anger, calm his fears, resolve his hatred? After the killings, it is difficult to say that it was “none of our business.” We won’t be the same after mass murders happen. It is our business.
In addition to the profound compassion that I feel for the families and friends of those sacrificed in mass killings, at the level of my soul I feel also a deep compassion for people like Cho, a person who seemingly lived a tortured life, and I pledge to advocate not only for a zero-tolerance-to-violence society but for a zero-tolerance-to-indifference world.
These events might not be part of our conversations after a few weeks, but they will not easily be forgotten. We might choose to forgive the murderers and question the responsibility of those who couldn’t prevent the tragedy. However, I am aware that nothing positive would come from hating a murderer or just pointing fingers.
Of course, the above are not the only questions that came to mind.
If, from a spiritual standpoint, we are all one, what is our responsibility in this situation, as a society? “We fell down with everyone in that classroom,” a blogger said referring to the victims of the VA killings, and I share the feeling. Let the questioning that seek explanation to delayed warnings and delayed response to the threats be.
I comfort myself after such sad days thinking that after a terrible act of violence like this strikes our hearts, it, extraordinarily enough, also opens the gates to appreciating life in its fullest (imagine what those who were spared feel now!), to reflecting on contributing to building a compassionate society, of learning and teaching socioemotional skills at home and in schools.
Let’s take a moment each day to express our love to our fellow humans who are mourning dear ones after these tragedies occur, including the family of the gunmen. And then, take another moment to feel our responsibility to promote a world where we truly support each other.
(excerpts from Silvia Casabianca’s book: Heartminded: Conscious evolution from fear to solidarity)
Loving without knowing how to love wounds the person we love. To know how to love someone, we need to understand them. To understand them, we have to listen. —Thich Nhat Hanh.
At the age of nine, a moment of inspiration set me on a path to becoming an educator. I felt, rather than knew that something was wrong with education at home and school. I would have to reread Little Men (Roberts Brothers, 1871), by Louisa May Alcott, to fully understand the impact this book had on me at that early age. The Plumfield Estate School, run by Mama Baher (the protagonist) with her husband, seemed like a paradise where children were treated with respect, empathy, and affection, but, above all, where there was an understanding that the students were children, and teachers allowed them to be so.
Although I had already been born with a call to support others’ healing processes (a desire to become a doctor that goes as far back as I can recall) and had also made my first attempts at writing stories, I promised to myself that one day I would create a different kind of school. It took me thirty-four years to gather enough faith in myself to dare to start one.
The school project came together thanks to the selfless dedication of the members of our Fundación para el Desarrollo del Joven—fundeijoven—created in 1991, and later, thanks to the support of a relative, Margot de Pellegrino, founder of the Fundación para la Actualización de la Educación (FACE), in Bogotá. Without the background of my youth work in Magangué in 1986, a youth project developed in Barrio Chiquinquirá in Cartagena, between 1988 and 1989, and the successful experience of our Carpe Diem school in Cartagena, I would not claim any authority to talk about educating in love. Ours was a very fruitful experience. In our model of education (1991 to 2001), we created an environment with zero tolerance of any form of violence, and children were never coerced into studying out of fear of not passing tests or of getting failing grades. Students evaluated themselves according to the objectives they had previously set for themselves. Teachers learned to avoid labeling children, understanding the negative impact tags can have on the formation of a child’s identity.
We were further encouraged by Summerhill School, an independent British boarding school founded in 1921 by Alexander Sutherland Neill, who believed schools needed to fit the child’s needs and talents instead of imposing standard curricula that disregard we’re all different. They understood play as an invaluable learning opportunity.
At Carpe Diem, we believed that a student-centered education that respects the individual’s pace and interests renders positive outcomes. Children’s questions were encouraged, and they learned to formulate hypotheses and search for answers. It stimulated their critical thinking and mathematical skills. Children had direct access to books in the classrooms (use of computers was still limited).
British academic and learning innovations consultant, Steven Wheeler says, “True pedagogy is far more that someone instructing. Pedagogy is leading people to a place where they can learn for themselves.” But even in the digital era, it doesn’t work that way. In many cases, education fosters dependency.
The learning process we implemented at Carpe Diem allowed children to access information sources, they became skilled in processing data, and then they found ways to apply what they learned to real life. It facilitated the acquisition of advanced cognitive abilities.
Our pedagogical innovation was intent on eliminating fear. It aimed at becoming a model for educating in love. No doubt, fear is a strong motivator. It leads you to do whatever prevents pain. It works as an external emotion regulator. But educating in love involves applying empathy in the educational process. It leads to self-soothing, introspection, strengthened bonds, self-motivated learning, and joy.
Some children came to Carpe Diem after experiencing difficulties in other education centers. Several had lost motivation for learning and felt frustrated at not achieving what was expected of them in their previous schools. Some had trouble socializing, which seemed related to highly competitive environments where they had experienced bullying. But often, it was the unrealistic expectations of their parents and teachers—frustrated by certain behaviors or because the children were falling short of high standards—that seemed to be at the root of the children’s behavior.
In our experience, an institution concerned more with academics or achievement than with a student’s process runs the risk of neglecting the emotional development of the child in all its different components: affect, safety, the ability to be assertive, socialization, and the management of sexuality.
Besides the family, the school is one of the most crucial social factors influencing the emotional maturation of the child; therefore, it’s also decisive in the development of cognitive processes (attention, memory, perception, and observation). But schools can also have a significant impact on the emotional and social development of the child. Therefore, they must aim at creating anxiety-free environments while contributing to nurturing and gratifying the emotional needs of the child, promoting curiosity, allowing exploration, and stimulating mastery of certain skills and talents.
The spiritual leader Osho said that schools should focus on teaching the art of living, the art of dying, and meditation (in addition to some English, science, and mathematics): “A real education will not teach you how to compete; it will teach you to cooperate. It will not teach you to fight and come first. It will teach you to be creative, to be loving, to be blissful, without any comparison with the other. It will not teach you that you can be happy only when you are the first.”
Do schools teach children how to love others? Do schools show children the best ways to love and respect their bodies? What about children learning about the responsibility we all have in the preservation of the earth?
It’s sad to see how many children eat plenty of foods laden with empty-calories or fats (junk food) or subject their bodies to exercises and fashion regimes without grasping the long-term negative impact those might have on their bodies. At Carpe Diem, children learned they had choices, but eating junk food was not one of them because, why would you put harmful things in your body? To make a healthy decision you need to first fully develop your awareness. Teachers (and parents) need to direct the attention of the child to what is best for them.
The issue of loving the body deserves special mention in a consumer society that seems to promote a progressive and slow murdering of our bodies. I’d dispute the idea that allowing children to choose certain foods is love. Why feed our children with foods that lead to chronic inflammation and illnesses? Only because we’re not making healthy choices ourselves. Please note the terms we use reflect the treatment we give our bodies: you kill yourself working; you eat crap; you party till you drop; you might compete to death. These expressions are woven into the fabric of a culture that steadily disrespects the body. This is not to mention how widespread the abuse of mood-altering substances and pharmaceuticals has become.
The benefits of learning to love extend beyond oneself, but they begin with self-knowledge and the development of self-compassion.
In the Art of Loving, Fromm explains how the practice of any art––including the art of loving––requires discipline, concentration, patience and dedication, without which no art can’t be mastered.
In our school, Carpe Diem, our schedule offered two weekly hours for self-exploration. It was a safe space for the children to examine relational issues and learn to express their feelings openly. “Safe space” refers to a place and moment in which a person can feel comfortable and sheltered. Where they can express themselves freely and gain insight, knowing that they’re listened to and accepted, and that what’s said is confidential. Once a safe space is created, it becomes easier to express emotions and develop a healthy capacity to regulate them. In these group sessions the students were able to put on the table any grievances or conflicts existing between them or between them and their teachers, and this gave them the opportunity to mature ways of solving conflict. Sometimes they watched a movie and discussed its content or examined their lifestyle and its impact on their bodies, on others, or on the world. They used music, painting, drama, or body movement to express themselves. It was a time, in short, for reflection and introspection.
The years have proven that our methodology had a positive impact on the lives of the children we served. The results reaffirm the idea that compassion can be taught, love can be learned, and fear can be excluded from education. Also, that we can offer models of solidary relationships and teach principles of cooperation.
It seems natural for children to respond lovingly. However, it’s important to invite them to look at the different ways in which others experience the world, helping them to reflect on the impact their actions have on others, on the planet, and on their bodies.
Much has been said about bullying. One of the ways to prevent harassment implemented at Carpe Diem included a very simple activity. When a student with special needs was admitted, we invited other students in the group to talk about their own challenges. When classmates reflected on their own needs or limitations, the new child relaxed. We embraced our common humanity, acknowledging that we all have some limitations that prevent us from functioning fully. These might be laziness, obsessing, or limping. Someone might have a stiff knee or headaches. Others might suffer from dyslexia or a visual deficit. Some children have to deal with extreme shyness, others with social anxiety. Part of our life journey has to be precisely about dealing with or overcoming our limitations.
According to research published in 2014 by the British not-for-profit organization Scope, about 67 percent of Brits felt uncomfortable when talking to a disabled person. A survey by Louis Harris and associates had found similar results in the US in the nineties. However, we can become aware of, and relate to the discomfort, if we use cognitive empathy to try to understand what another person is feeling.
When a child is going through emotional turmoil, one of the most common reactions from peers is to turn away (flee) because they don’t know how to handle the stress the situation elicits. We invited the children in Carpe Diem to open up and try to understand what the other child was going through and then to think of what they could do to support their peer. Most children responded positively to our suggestions. Being supportive is natural.
Stimulating empathy in children is one of the key objectives of inductive discipline. In this type of discipline, social transgressions are not approached with punishment.
Most modern educators are aware that punishment for social transgressions engenders reactions ranging from resentment to defiant behaviors. Instead, a child could be induced to feel sorry for the discomfort he might have caused and helped to reflect on the effect his actions had on another. Then a reparative action can be suggested—hugging, asking for forgiveness, inviting the other to play—so that shame and guilt are attenuated. These behaviors would be remembered and would eventually contribute to a reinforcement of the neural circuits for empathy. The newfound empathy will then contribute to limiting aggression and increase prosocial behavior.
Is our racism fueled by narcissism? This is a time where we need to educate ourselves, strive to understand, use empathy to grasp what living in someone else’s skin means.
I’m throwing the question there, like bait, wishing someone will help me answer it. The question would not have much transcendence if it were not because many of the ills of humanity in the present are due to this plague, characterized by the incapacity to feel the pain of others.
If narcissists lack something, it is empathy. They cannot connect with the feelings of others; they cannot grasp other people’s inner world. In the United States, it is essential to become “the” Number One, defeat a rival, earn more, be more productive, be famous, and the consequence is that more than anywhere else, but not exclusively, narcissism is becoming widespread. Narcissism and individualism are close cousins. The fact that the Times magazine called the Millenials the “Me me me” generation is not an accident. Neoliberalism feeds this trend. A neoliberal logic calls for a growing personal responsibility and discounts the solidary responsibilities of the state or the significance of social justice issues
It is reflected in the way we educate children, the way parents raise them, the undeserved praise we provide them? Is it a matter of intellectual rigidity where we cannot see beyond our limited experience and what we believe (or were told) is true?
As I see protesters all around the United States (and the world) marching in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement, as I see workers protesting and demanding fair wages, I also see the faces of hundreds of people who have no clue about what these protests are about. People who cannot understand what being a black person or living on less than a minimum wage means.
Racism is such that the actual color of the skin, the social status, the level of education doesn’t really matter if you’re not one of them. I have been called a “coloured” person because I come from a South American country (even if my skin color is rather milky white) and the medical degree I earned there, a white male Republican illustrated to me, is not as good and respectable as if I had earned it in this country!
I had to educate myself to understand that I can’t–and probably will never be able to–fully grasp what the experience of a “coloured person” is in this country.
I can say, though, that it requires empathy to step out of our comfortable places and get into someone else’s shoes. Narcissism is thinking we are better, we know better, and others should just be just like us.
I have often heard that if someone does not have a better life, they have not tried hard enough. Those who adhere to this theory are probably oblivious to the history of white supremacy, slavery, feudalism, capitalism, supremacy, and privilege. Will learning about the suffering black people endured while working to build the wealth of others allow us to be more empathetic? If not, what would?
What do we need to learn from this coronavirus pandemic?
Lori Spencer visits her mom Judie Shape, 81, who Spencer says has tested positive for coronavirus, at Life Care Center of Kirkland, the Seattle-area nursing home at the epicenter of one of the biggest coronavirus outbreaks in the United States, in Kirkland, Washington, U.S. March 11, 2020. REUTERS/Jason Redmond – RC2HKF9TE1XS
In my former post about the Coronavirus pandemic, I opened up about the different reactions I had when it became evident we could not escape the impact of the Covid-19. When pandemics happen, we experience the exact same reactions we have when experiencing losses or when we have been victims of a catastrophe. We go through the stages of grief:
Denial versions:
It’s a hoax or a false alarm.
I’m safe, this is happening far away. I won’t be affected
I’m healthy, no virus will make me sick
This is only affecting “Other” people.
Anger versions:
I found who’s guilty – I assign blame on others
I spread conspiracy theories
I just feel irritable at the whole situation and the limitations it brought to me
Negotiation versions
If I pray (meditate, practice yoga or Qigong) I’ll be okay
I’ll eat better to improve my immune system
I’ll change my lifestyle to be healthier and protected from the virus
I understand we’re part of the problem, we need to do something, we need to change the world
Depression
I should not have…
I regret…
Isolation hits hard, I see how much I need my…
I sleep all the time, have no drive for anything, what’s the point anyhow.
Acceptance
This is what it is
I take responsibility for my part
I learn from this experience and make some changes
I prepare myself for what’s coming
It’s really sad that what is required of us is to “keep social distance” precisely in times in which we have disconnected so much from each other. I see a slight change in the quality of the messages I receive from friends and acquaintances. An increased, personal, concern for one another. But if individualism is one of the main features of these times, the pandemic can make it worse. We might become more suspicious of others than ever.
Ideally, we can use this pandemic to reflect on the quality of our lives and the relationships we have. Maybe we can stop competing, trying to be the one with the most brilliant idea to see how to build new ideas and solutions conjointly. Maybe now we will see how everything is so interconnected that it’s difficult to function as a society without the contribution of each individual. Maybe we’ll start valuing each individual’s contribution. Maybe…
Disciplining children by physical means is still commonly accepted around the world. What many people still don’t understand is that this practice can serve as a prelude to an escalating pattern of child abuse.
According to the United Nations, eleven percent of the world population lives in extreme poverty –– make less than $1.90 a day––and therefore struggles to fulfill basic needs. Even though fewer people live in extreme poverty these days, almost half of the world’s population —3.4 billion people— still strives to meet their basic needs, the World Bank said in 2018.
Child abuse
and neglect can result from the convergence of poverty, high levels of stress,
low levels of education, and lack of parenting skills. In households where
people are struggling to make ends meet, children’s basic physical, emotional,
and spiritual needs are more often neglected.
Researchers have found that exposure to repeated stressors cause hormonal imbalances and activates an area in the brain called the limbic system. The mental status of the parents, the way they regulate emotions, end up affecting children. We need to be aware that brain development and mental health are the result of our interactions. When caregivers or teachers interact with children, they are impacting their brains. This, in essence, is how love becomes flesh, says author Louis Cozolino in his book “Neuroscience of Human Relations,” (W. W. Norton & Company; Second edition, 2014)
Childhood adversities, including neglect, and physical, verbal or emotional abuse, affect the child’s acquisition of skills, their social competence, and their capacity to respond empathically. And, what is worse is that studies have consistently found that any form of physical punishment is associated with future violence against caregivers, siblings, peers, and partners. However, researchers also found that children’s aggression was reduced by stopping harsh discipline.
When a child
is born, he or she is equipped to naturally experience concern for another.
But, as researchers have shown, deprived children or children exposed to any
form of child abuse or trauma, have problems experiencing empathy or even
recognizing emotions different from anger, which is a response typical of the
fight-or-flight response to stress (resulting from the activation of the
amygdala in the brain).
It’s therefore
essential to set up policies in place to address the need for parenting education
for all caregivers, as an effective child abuse preventative strategy.
What did Thomas Jefferson have in mind when he considered essential to add “the right to the pursuit of happiness” in the Declaration of Independence? Life and liberty were, of course, vital rights that the forefathers of this country had to fight for when the colonies weren’t allowed the sovereignty to decide their own destiny when the British army was abusing the colonists.
But why the pursuit of happiness? I’d like to understand the intention behind the words. I believe that it was not about individuality and not about possessions. Their fight was for freedom and I am inclined to agree with those who think that they were referring to that happiness that can only be achieved when you work for freedom and for the public good.
The pursuit of happiness is since the declaration of independence a goal linked to the American way of life. People have come to pursue happiness, or what they believe happiness is, through the most extraordinary ways. Money and fame have become the avenues that supposedly take you to Heaven on Earth. But it doesn’t take long for people to realize that money can’t buy happiness. People achieve riches and fame and they party, drink alcohol, consume drugs, have sex, all in pursuit of happiness. Often times people get a quick peek at or a brief sensation of elation that might feel to them as heaven. But, because it doesn’t last long, they go for more and more of it until it risks becoming obsessive and destructive behavior. Might explain why people are frequently unsatisfied. Longing, always longing.
A divorce between the soul and the ego might be the big culprit of people’s lack of happiness. The soul is capable of experiencing the utmost joy and peace. The ego is greedy and lonely and afraid. It can seek experiences that can elevate the body to the heights of elation or manic moods but cannot achieve joy on its own. Joy is a less intense experience, but it lasts longer.
The pursuit of happiness has been misunderstood, I think. It’s not about the individual, but about the collective wellbeing; it’s not about possessions but about achievements. It’s more about doing the right thing than a lot of things!
COMPARE TO
BUDDHISM… Accept suffering is part of life.
A dad is trying to playfully connect with his 9-year-old at a restaurant. The boy is standing to the left and the father has his arm around him. Both seem a little uncomfortable. The dad starts throwing what seems like a math quiz at the child.
What’s 40% of 50? the dad asks and the boy has trouble finding the answer.
The dad gives him clues, takes him to “what’s 40% of a hundred?” to which the boy easily replies 40 and then the dad insists with the former question.
Even though
this time the boy easily says 20, he is frustrated and concludes, “I’m not
smart, dad.”
This simple anecdote of interaction between father and son makes me think of a hundred things.
For one, how
difficult it is to respond sometimes to the emotional needs of another person!
The father’s
intention seems to be to communicate with his son, to play with him, to
stimulate the child’s brain. However, he doesn’t seem to realize he’s making
the child feel incompetent and stupid. Not a good foundation for a parent-child
relationship, but unfortunately this interaction is not uncommon between adult
and young males.
There was an implicit “leave me alone” plead from the boy that the father disregarded. I wonder if the child will remember this one as a humiliating moment where he perceived his father was more intelligent. Will he also feel that his father sees him as a failure and therefore won’t feel proud of him? Not unlikely, the father-son memory will be recorded with some resentment that will mark even the son’s choice of career (I’m not good for math, I will choose art).
The saddest thing though is not only that the father didn’t see the child’s discomfort (the father kept insisting) but that the dad’s good intention was not recognized either.
I believe in
these cases a third person is essential. Was this a divorced father sharing
weekend time with his child? The mother was not there. Would she have stopped
the father from going on with the quiz to protect the child? Would she have
interpreted and explained to the child what his father’s intention was?
I’ve seen how
important it is for single parents to have a third person reinforce their
authority, share responsibilities, explain their intentions to the child.
I’ve also seen how important it is for a child who is verbally mistreated in public to have a third person intervene and stop the abuse. It takes the blame out of him/her (“It is not something I did what explains my parent’s abusive behavior”).
I am certain that in many occasions our perception of the world is tinted and biased because we lack that third person in our lives who can explain and interpret the facts for us. For example, a grandfather who provides a different perspective; the stranger who intervenes to either defend the child or take the steam out of the situation; the wife who explains dad’s intention; the therapist who allows for a space where emotions are acknowledged, words listened, and new perspectives are possible.
Let’s look
for opportunities where our children can see the two sides of a coin. That will
help them integrate lightness and darkness and grow emotionally healthy.
The main point about civility is…the ability to
interact with strangers without holding their strangeness against them and
without pressing them to surrender it or to renounce some or all the traits
that have made them strangers in the first place.
—Zygmunt Bauman
The media
constantly inform us about acts of terrorism, wars, people displaced by
violence, refugees, famines, natural calamities, human and drug trafficking,
mass lay-offs, corporations that sink overnight or merge to form larger and
frighteningly powerful entities. All of these are symptoms and consequences of
our disconnection as humanity.
In January 2018, the prime minister of the United Kingdom, Teresa May, created a new position, a Ministry of Loneliness. More than nine million people in the UK suffer, either occasionally or permanently, from loneliness, according to a report published by the Jo Cox Commission on Loneliness. And loneliness seems, more than anything, the product of our inability to connect with others.
We’re not only isolating ourselves, we’re regrouping.
Armed with recent demographics, journalist Bill Bishop published The Big Sort:Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America Is Tearing Us Apart. (First Mariner Books, 2009).When he looked at the electoral results of the last thirty years, he observed that Americans have grouped by class, skin color, and beliefs in increasingly homogeneous communities. This has happened not only at the region or state level, but by city and even neighborhood. His data has been confirmed by other reporters, such as Corey Lang and Shanna Pearson-Merkowitz of the UK,[1] who also predict that this tendency toward segregation will be generalized along party lines. People are choosing neighborhoods (and churches and news programs) that are compatible with their lifestyles and beliefs. This type of grouping prevents the new generations from being exposed to different opinions and views of the world. The phenomenon is happening throughout the nation. For example, in rural West Texas, a fifty-acre community development (Paulsville) was created in 2008 to provide homes exclusively for followers of then libertarian presidential candidate Ron Paul.
Bill Bishop suggests that the outcome of this trend has been a
notoriously dangerous polarization of the population, a decline in tolerance,
and an increase in extremism.
Facebook designs algorithms that select what’s displayed in my wall and
shown to my friends and family. Other
algorithms will get me to see more posts from people who think like me and
fewer from those who have different opinions, or more personal comments and pictures,
than any political news I’d like to share. My followers and the people who like
or click on my posts back my opinions, but my posts rarely reach those who
think differently. The balkanization of social media or splinternet––meant to
block, filter, or redirect certain topics––causes us to live in separate
microcosms, with narrower visions. It denies us the opportunity of enriching
ourselves with differing ways of seeing the world. It has become a political
instrument to perpetuate power in the hands of a few.
In
a sociopolitical climate of constant change, corruption in the highest spheres,
mutual distrust, and unrelenting competition, we feel easily judged,
criticized, and excluded. This also constitutes an obstacle when trying to connect
with others. I distrust others because I suspect they want what I have (my money,
my partner, my position at work, my influence). Since others have abused me in
the past, betrayed me, abandoned me, rejected me, I can’t expect otherwise. In
the midst of this mistrust, I keep my guard up. I don’t show my vulnerability.
I choose not to connect with those different from me but to group with
like-minded people. The paradox is that vulnerability actually connects us,
humanizes us. We need to change the paradigm that the intellect is what makes
us strong. True strength doesn’t come from our physical bodies and brains,
which inevitably deteriorate, but from experiences and feelings that eventually
make us capable of empathy and prompt our indignation about social injustice or
ignorance and ambition. We all have a soft side, and that’s just fine. We are
yin; we are yang.
[1] The LSE US Centre’s daily blog on American Politics and Policy (online).
Not only have we
progressively disconnected from each other and the planet, we’ve also stopped
listening to our bodies. We’ve forgotten how to lead a rhythmic life. We don’t
eat when we’re hungry, but when the food is available or when it’s noon. We
don’t sleep when tired; that’s what caffeine is for. We turn off symptoms with
medication, instead of trying to understand their roots. In addition, we’ve
lost body wisdom. Our gardens are more for adornment than for receiving our
daily dose of sun or for planting trees that purify our air. Instead of
exposing our skin to the sun, which would transform skin tocopherols into
vitamin D, we take a supplement. Instead of drinking orange juice, we look for
vitamin C capsules. If something upsets our stomach, we just take an antacid or
digestive enzyme instead of eliminating from our diets the foods causing
problems.
We’ve also
stopped trusting the wisdom of the body, no longer listening to its inner
healer. We believe that our doctor is the expert in our own body, and we allow
specialists to manage our health. I often see patients unable to decide on a
course of action because what reason prescribes goes against what their heart,
their instinct, or their dream shout. Society (which strongly echoes the parental
voices lodged in your mind) sometimes prevents you from seeing the red flags or
advising you about what’s best for you. We end up not doing what our hearts and
souls really need and want.
I believe three types of disconnection (from the body, from others, and the planet) are interrelated and lead to deficiencies in our ability to nurture ourselves, love our neighbors, and protect and preserve the environment.
Development (a misnomer) has given rise to the adoption of new values, which have a clear detrimental impact on the evolution of the individual and the culture,and are very different from the knowledge of our ancestors, who recognized the need to preserve, honor and care for the planet. But we still call ourselves civilized.
This divorce we
have created is based on an illusion. In 1973, in his essay “The Cosmic Connection:
An Extraterrestrial Perspective,” the astrophysicist and author of Cosmos, Carl Sagan said, “Our sun is a
second- or third-generation star. All the rocky and metallic material we stand
on, the iron in our blood, the calcium in our teeth, the carbon in our genes,
were produced billions of years ago in the interiors of a red giant star. We
are made of star-stuff.”
The still-predominant reductionist paradigm feeds the perception of separation from our surroundings, including other people,and convinces us that we’re merely individual beings, divided, segments. We’ve fooled ourselves into denying we’re all stardust and that what I do to you I’m doing to myself too, that what I do to the planet affects me.
Fortunately, we’re coming to understand that reductionist science, which until recently we thought irrefutable, is questionable and that we’re enrichened by the adoption of more holistic, systemic, and comprehensive perspectives. Holon means complete, total. A multidimensional and holistic perspective of health, disease, education, politics, and our relationships with others and with the world goes beyond what current science could even now explain (measure or corroborate).
Adopting a
holistic approach can transform our relationship with our bodies and the
environment. If we were more open to ancient
cultures, we’d see that Buddhists, Taoists, and Hindus offer us invaluable pearls
of wisdom, treasured for generations, and with a universalist perspective. They
teach us, for example, that a frugal, moderate discipline and lifestyle, a
conscious existence (monitoring our minds), can keep us physically, emotionally
and mentally healthy and is good for the planet. The four Buddhism’s components
of love are joy, compassion, equanimity, and benevolence, which allow us to
connect with others and the environment from a kinder heart.
The Bible also preaches frugality, which some people may interpret as paying less for
stuff. The real meaning is having less (only what’s necessary), avoiding waste,
and not allowing our happiness to depend on what we own. This is also good for
the planet.
In psychology and
social sciences, we’re also approaching a more down-to-earth vision of love and
relationships, an understanding that individuals can connect with others
without exposing themselves to be hurt.
I will be able to
take responsibility for my feelings and experience joy in relationships as long
as I can fully express my essence and be myself in the presence of another. It
makes all the difference in the world if I learn that it’s healthier to choose a
companion, friend, neighbor, colleague, or family member who won’t judge me and
in front of whom I don’t need to hide my feelings or thoughts or appearance in
order to be loved. In other words, if I learn to be with people capable of accepting
me as I am, who love me because of who I am. And if I make a mistake and choose
a wrong pal, if someone mistreats me and becomes a toxic presence in my life,
it’s also important to know that the fairest and healthiest thing to do is to
get away.
It might not be
necessary to know why or when our instinct and intuition got clouded, or when
or why our human relationships became utilitarian, or how we came to have a
minimal or neglectful relationship with nature. But it’s crucial to overcome
this rift between us and our bodies, between us and our neighbors, between us
and our planet. It’s critical to regaining the natural wisdom through which we keep
our inner healer attuned.
How could love
and solidarity prosper in a competitive and polarized world where it’s become so
difficult to bridge the gap between us and those who don’t think, live, feel,
or vote like me?
