Some recent research (1) shows that some people are uncomfortable if left alone with their thoughts even for a few minutes. In one experiment people were asked to sit quietly without a phone or book for 15 minutes; they were also also given the option of administering electric shocks to themselves as they became bored (really). While no-one said that they would take up this option, after just six minutes alone, many of them did in fact choose to shock themselves! A ‘shocking experiment’ indeed; and I could not help think about the claims that the digital world, for all its much-vaunted connectivity, has also made us less comfortable with ourselves, and perhaps even lonelier.
As an educator and a father, I see great value in helping my students and children to be happy in their own company; to understood that solitude is a viable and attractive state of being; and utterly different to boredom and loneliness. In fact, solitude does not necessarily mean being alone – rather it is a state of conscious retreat – the ‘gathering of yourself’. Poet David Whyte argues that the capacity for solitude makes relationships with others more authentic. Because you know who you are, you can see others for whom they are, not for whom you need to be. That idea resonated for me very broadly, because it speaks to something that is often overlooked in education; that along side a healthy sense of self, we need to support students to remove themselves when necessary. That may sound a bit odd, so bear with me.
I have been listening to conversations among students and families about the expeditions we are offering this year. There is excitement; and there is nervousness. Students will be away from home, with others (some of whom they do not yet know), in unfamiliar territory. They will be without phones. Unconnected from the digital world. As you can see from the graphic, the expeditions run for all ages and in each case involves an encounter with something new, something challenging, something that is other. But what has this got to do with self-shocking? My argument is that we need experiences that draw us out of ourselves; paradoxically, these enhance our sense of self and improve our relations with others. Expeditions provide these experiences in spades.
The point about expeditions is that they involve a world that is decidedly not about the students. The encounter with mountain, forest, desert, jungle or sea is an encounter that, I hope, forces its way into consciousness, and thereby enriches it. Whyte has written about the sacred otherness to the world which is breathtakingly helpful simply because it is not us. [The world] is not defined or concerned by our preoccupations, and it never will be. This refusal to be concerned with our ambitions is it’s greatest mercy; it offers another type of nourishment, one that we come to when we are ready to drop our reflexive self-concern and look beyond our exhausting self-importance.
The point about expeditions is that they involve a world that is decidedly not about the students. The encounter with mountain, forest, desert, jungle or sea is an encounter that, I hope, forces its way into consciousness, and thereby enriches it. Whyte has written about the sacred otherness to the world which is breathtakingly helpful simply because it is not us. [The world] is not defined or concerned by our preoccupations, and it never will be. This refusal to be concerned with our ambitions is it’s greatest mercy; it offers another type of nourishment, one that we come to when we are ready to drop our reflexive self-concern and look beyond our exhausting self-importance.
I think there is great wisdom here, and though I find it hard to articulate, I think for many children expeditions provide a profoundly important and powerful experience. It is rare we are forced to look outwards, away from self, and maybe to catch a view of a perspective that does not include us. This is precisely why it is so important do to so when the chance arises. We can also carefully scaffold the expeditions with quiet reflective time, so that we also see our peers having these new perspectives. At the extremes we may have glimpses of awe and wonder; but even short of these raptures, we are forced outside of our own nervous introspection. The encounter is an affront to our usual self absorption.
Though it’s hard to pin down, I see a deep connection between this aspect of expeditions and the rest of any holistic learning programme. In Service we try see the world from our service parter’s stance. The musician, learning to play the guitar, finds that mastery demands something that he or she may or may not attain. The mathematician seeks to uncover an authoritative structure which requires respect. The linguist’s work is a progressive revelation of something that exists independently of him or her. These examples are far harder to see than the mountain; but the mountain can serve as a model; and it captures an important life lesson: Usually, it’s not about you!
References
- (1) Wilson T.D., et al (2014) Just think: The challenges of the disengaged mind. Science Magazine 345:6192 p75
- (2) White, D (1996) The Heart Aroused: Poetry and the Preservation of the Soul in Corporate America: Crown Business
- (3) Murdoch, I., (1964) The Sovereignty of Good. Routledge.
3 Responses
Dear Nick,
Thanks for sharing these thoughts as I think the Outdoor Education aspect of our Learning Programme has, like our Service and PSE Programmes, undergone huge change for the better in the last few years and become a much deeper, richer experience for both students and staff. The connection to 'something bigger than oneself' through these programmes is a huge contribution to wellbeing and growth. I do however want to question you on the concept of these experiences taking one 'away from self'. While the intention of course is to highlight the need for an unselfish life (a virtue in the usual sense) and thus a useful and worthy path to reflection, the notion that nature (or anything) is somehow separate from self is at the heart of our deep disconnect with Nature. The quote from Iris Murdoch seems to reinforce this notion, deeply embedded in western philosophy and science, that we can somehow be objective from the world (people, nature, thought) around us, and that it is good to strive for this. Whereas, in a continuum from the writings of Lao Tzu to the empirical evidence from quantum physics and onward to many current philosophers, the recognition and acceptance of the interconnectedness of observer to the observed, of mankind and nature is fundamental to a genuine re-connect and ability to care. There is a growing consciousness (though this maybe just the people I talk too or books I read!) that non-dualism is no longer the realm of the mystic but breaking into mainstream thought. Witness the growing use of Mindful meditation right here at UWCSEA whose spiritual roots are of course in Buddhism and are an attempt to connect with the true self and not the false self of one's thoughts and unconscious actions. The idea that we should move 'away from self' as objective observers of nature risks maintaining rather than deepening the spiritual divide that, many argue, created the very problems we are trying to deal with.
Cleary, as anyone trapped in the awful Mexican earthquake or tropical storms battering the Caribbean at present will acknowledge, Nature may seem to have a purpose or path that does include us in its design. However it seems though, it does include us, just as it includes everything. We might never fully understand it, but then that could be because for so long, at least in 'the West', we've tried to understand it as something other than us, away from ourselves. The same issue arises in Service when we see our partners as 'others' and we do good for/to them. You may remember we even used to call them 'clients' for a while!
So you're right, I agree..it's usually not about 'you', but in a world that desperately needs to move from ego to eco, it most definitely is about US. And I love the bit about 'glimpses of awe and wonder' – let's hope for more of that!
Thanks Nathan for taking the time to write. Like you, I lean towards the philosophy underlying some of the Buddhist thinking as it seems to me to lead to a healthy mental life.
I think you have helped me pinpoint a tension here. On the one hand, as you say “It's not about you!” is usually good advice, and on the other hand, perhaps there is less distinction between self and other than we usually think.
I suppose I was thinking that when I wrote ‘away from self’ I was really trying to get at the idea of thinking about ‘diminution of self’, more than simply ‘towards another’. I know what you mean, that in some sense self is all we can ever have – but at the same time, I think looking for the elusive and paradoxical ‘the view from nowhere’ is one route to seeing oneself as part of a bigger system. Almost a Zen koan type of thing.
Ah yes this it is, absolutely; the paradox of the self dissolving through awareness of connection to the whole. As you say though, very elusive, but I can see now that your call in the blog is definitely on that same path to that view from nowhere (I'd forgotten that great phrase). Many thanks for having taken time to read and reply.