Thoughts on Narratives for the Future of Working
Why we need radically new stories to create the planetary culture we want to live and work in We define ourselves through stories. As individuals and as groups, as organizations,…
How can you cultivate an Innovation Mindset?
Much of what has been written about innovation is about the mechanics of it. It doesn't matter if it is top-down or bottom-up. Innovation doesn't happen either way. Innovation happens…
Innovation starts with “i”
You might have heard the story about a Zen master who is visited by a Buddhist scholar. The scholar had requested the master to teach him about Zen. As they…
Don’t believe that you “should” meditate
Meditation or Mindfulness Practice, as the kids are calling it these days to stay more bias free, is becoming popular again. From events like Wisdom 2.0 to internet entrepreneurs like…
Who is “I”?
I seem to be a point of perception that collapses probabilities into actuality by means of observation. The probability fields that surround me seem to be archetypal (e.g. male/female, gravity,…
Meditation can make your life hell
"Man Describes How Meditating Made His Life Hell" - a catchy headline in a world where mindfulness meditation is beginning to get traction from Silicon Valley conferences to boardrooms, to…
In search of meaning…
Since becoming aware of his existence, man has sought to give meaning to it. In his comparatively short life on earth, a whole array of philosophies, cosmologies, ontologies have arisen and have been amply documented. In terms of their stance on the underlying meaning, nearly all of these models of reality fall into one of two categories: materialistic or spiritualistic.
Materialism
Materialistic models focus on matter, on this life, the tangible, sensually experiential, this life span, while spiritualistic concepts focus on spirit, the other life, the non-visible, intangible, the domains of other worlds, the afterlife.
Materialistic philosophy can be traced back at least to the Greek philosophers, who tried to find the “stuff” the world is made of. Some assumed earth, some fire, some water, some air, each providing elaborate systems which could explain why this or that particular element was superior to the others. As man began to grasp the world around him, he tried to find underlying meaning within it. Being in this life, he tried to find explanations within this life for his very existence. As matter was a core element of everyday experience, he sought to thus explain this existence with the building blocks he had available.
What is meaningful?
Most of the time, we do things habitually: We get up, brush our teeth, put on clothes, commute to work, do what we know how to do all day, get ourselves some entertainment, undress, go to bed, sleep. Rinse. Repeat.
Habits are the foundation of existence. Habits of thought, emotion, deed. If we had to rethink how to brush our teeth, how to walk, what we do everyday all the time, we would go insane – and we probably would not be able to function all too well in this reality. Most of the habits we have serve us. Otherwise, we would not have let them become habits in the first place.
Finding “Nemo”
Contrary to the ideas this title might conjure up, this entry is not about fishies. It is about our projections on “Other” and our yearning for connectedness. Once you realize “I” and “Other”, and you begin to take ownership of your distinctions, one of the most important dynamics to become aware of is our tendency to look for “nemo”.
“Nemo” is not a fish
The word “nemo” comes from Latin. It means no human, or nobody. It is curious that in the children story of “Finding Nemo” (I know, this is not about fish, I promise), a timid father is finding his lively son. Note these two personalities for now. Nemo was also the name of the anarchist captain in Jules Verne’s “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea“. A pirate that could not be contained by the system of the time due to his ingenuity.
Finding “Other”
As a newborn, you have no distinctions of this world. All around you is a colorful, noisy mess of a constantly changing kaleidoscope of perception.
We first begin to know ourselves through experiences of pain and separation: ripped out of the warmth of the womb, cut off from our feeding line, spanked into taking our first breath.
A little later, happily feeding, and while we are still hungry, mom removes her breast before we are done. MMMmmmmaa, the first sound babies are capable of making evolves as an attempted command to that thing that feeds us. She might or might not come back, but in either case, we suddenly realize, she is separate from us…
Then we hit our head against a table: “ouch THAT hurt me… I would not hurt myself… THAT must be separate…”