look up and see the sky. I look down and see the grass, dirt or pavement.
I think to myself, ‘No matter where I go, there will be some kind of sky and some kind of ground’ This thought gives me comfort. I continue on my way.
As a child, I’d run through thought experiments, testing what I could count on when I found myself in new situations that felt uncertain, like leaving my family and culture.
In most places, I discovered that if I was outside and looked up, I’d see the sky, and if I looked down, I would see some kind of ground, whether that was pavement, dirt, or grass. These two things made me feel held by something bigger. I knew that no matter where I went there would be some things that stayed the same. This gave me the courage to venture beyond what I knew because I felt less alone.
Years later, I also discovered that in many parts of the world, there are mourning doves, a bird I often heard at the ashram my family and I spent time at when I was a child. To this day, the sound of mourning doves also connects me with a feeling of being connected to something larger than myself.
Today, what was uncertain feels more familiar. The unknowns of travel and moving between cultures are more known.
…
Right now, I am on my commute to Heathrow, flying the exact flight path I’ve been taking every 60 days for over a year due to requirements with my visa. When some people fight to be in a country that pushes many people out, I still find it odd that England demands I be there for my studies.
The cabin is cold, and I have two blankets wrapped around me. Nearly everyone around me is sleeping. I am reading an article on phronesis that a professor in Austria shared with me. I direct my attention to the page before me. Every few paragraphs, I underline a sentence or two, and if the content feels relevant to my research, I put a star next to those lines.
In the quiet darkness, a sense of solitude wraps around me. For a moment, my surroundings fade into the background. My attention is present with my breath, the sensations in my body, and the author’s words. I am also aware of the fact that I am travelling above the earth with a bunch of strangers. While this has become a more usual experience, it still fascinates me.
In these moments, I feel very alone, but there is also a subtle sense of being connected to something much larger. The closest I can get to describing this larger presence is an impression of the world. Moments like these are what make traveling so special; I feel closer to life itself.
I used to think I needed to be somewhere beautiful to experience this phenomenon, but lately, I am recognising that it can happen anywhere. I think of my partner, who sees the world with eyes of wonder. Being with him has rekindled this part of me as well; I am seeing more and more beauty these days.
I look out the window and see the full moon. As we fly through the sky, covering hundreds of miles, the moon is still there over my right shoulder. One day after being full, it shines brightly in the velvety black sky. Although the moon is still, it is travelling with us. Whenever I glance to the right, it is still there.
I look around the cabin. Everything, the seats, ceiling, and people, look a tad bit softer. The plastic ceiling and synthetic fabrics feel more inviting.
‘The moon really puts things in perspective’, I think to myself. I look down and continue reading my article. Even as I looked away, the moon was still there with me. Its glow seems to continue to shine in the space just behind my eyes.
Moral Agency, Self-Consciousness, and Practical Wisdom, by Shaun Gallagher
What does it mean to be an expert? How is this similar and different from being wise in a practical sense? In this article, Gallagher explores the similarities and differences between moral agency, expertise and phronesis, which Aristotle described as practical wisdom. Over the course of reading articles for my PhD some of the ones I’ve enjoyed the most have been on phronesis. A big thank you to Joshua Bergamin, an academic and author whose work I admire greatly, for sharing this article with me! You can access a PDF here
Works in the Centre
Friday, April 5th, 3:30-5:30 PDT // Saturday, April 6th, 9:30-11:30 AEDT
During my studies in process-oriented psychology, I learned so much from watching my teachers work with people in front of the group. Maybe it was the mirror neurons or the sense of immediacy, but I always integrated the learning in an embodied way different from the learning I experienced when reading books.
Works in the Centre is a 2-hour session that includes inner work, a demo of me working with someone in the centre, a discussion during which we look at the process structure, and time to practice. When I work with someone, I also learn a great deal. Each time, the work is different and invites me to think on my feet. In the session, I will share my thoughts with all of you, and together we will explore different directions the work could take together.
Learn more and register here. This will be the last one until July!