An Experience in Psychosomatic Studying: An Epiphany!

The definition here of a contemplative practice surprised me, as it is referred to as a skill. While most will see it as something to participate in, an action that’s not necessarily capable of someone describing it as being good at it or being bad at it, it’s highlighted in this blog post that it provides an increase in focus and comprehension qualities. When analyzing this statement myself, I realize the relationship between the distant facts in coursework and the everyday reality is woven with the threads of the learner’s perspective.

The reference to the living systems practice also reminded myself of another contemplative practice which stood out to me, exotic foods. Being a first generation American in Washington, I have experienced first-hand the view historical American generations have on food unfamiliar to them. I was raised on both sides of the coin, by my Egyptian family and the American society.

Most Challenging Foods - The Secret Traveller

Via The Secret Traveller

The heightened emotional response to these contemplative practices was affirmed and enhanced when I experienced a direct and intimate connection to course work. This involvement resulted in me stretching my hand out to reach for this intimate connection to course material I did not have a direct, familial connection with, to develop it instead.

It is this epiphany that I’ve concluded from this blog post. I want to agree with and applaud the description of contemplative practice being a skill of both emotional awareness and informational awareness. Without this skill, what are we really learning? I feel as if everybody can agree that facts and feelings rest gently on a sensitive scale, even if it doesn’t seem like it. The two, much like everything else in the world we share, are interconnected in a complicated, yet beautiful system.

2020: Here’s To Resistance and Not Going Back to Normal

So far, 2020 has afforded society and chance to toss worn bandages from its wounds and address the source of injury. For our class, it’s been an especially important time to examine the socioecological systems in which our food system is embedded. The coronavirus pandemic is revealing weaknesses from distribution bottlenecks to unjust working conditions. It’s also reminding us that intense animal agriculture such as CAFOs are breeding grounds for future pandemics. The recent murder of George Floyd has set yet another alarm demanding a reckoning with, and dismantling of, institutions built upon a legacy of racism and inequality – our food system not being exempt from these ills. Being a class discussing food using a systems-thinking approach, these breakdowns across Earth and social realms unfolding at warp speed can be understood as the result of generations of exploitation. The universe is begging us to examine our relationship with our food and with each other.

Grappling with these system imbalances, I recall our discussion of Gaia theory, which sees Earth as a self-regulating macro-organism, it’s biotic and abiotic elements functioning and evolving together. Wondering how to feed ourselves on a finite planet, Gaia theory offers solutions in the way of thinking cyclically. As industrial agriculture requires increasing inputs to compensate for soil degradation and other externalities, we can learn from nature’s non-linear models, where output becomes input. Waste from one = food for another.

This “thinking in circles” held presence as our action group partnered with the Center for Food Safety, a non-profit organization resisting the factory farm model by advocating for organic, sustainable, and restorative agriculture. Our goal was to research and develop criteria for a sustainable shellfish scorecard, which will inform consumers about pesticide use and tending/harvest methods. Washington state is the leading national producer of farmed oysters, clams, and mussels, generating around $270 million annually. Bivalves filter phytoplankton, clearing water for photosynthesis, essential for eelgrass, which provides nutrients and predation refuge for fish and crustaceans. When done responsibly, shellfish farming can compliment an ecosystem. Done irresponsibly, it can throw an ecosystem out of balance.

Is this balance? Geoduck farm in Puget Sound. Photo: Sean McDonald, University of Washington

This work gave an up-close look at the potential within our food system for restoring some balance. I gained appreciation for the work CFS does to positively impact human and environmental health by standing up to powerful corporate and government interests, like speaking up for unprotected meatpacking workers, taking on the EPA and Dow Chemical, and helping shut down CAFOs.

It’s all connected. ~Image Source

Food is embodied energy, solar power transformed into calories nourishing bodies, minds, souls. It is deeply personal and political. Food is power. As we call ourselves out on unjust systems of power and call for reform, let us include those systems which feed us and our Earth as one. To heal our wounds will require not more sutures but a bloodletting. We cannot and do not wish to go back to “normal.”

Connections and Projections

The connections intertwining each and every system on this planet exist in numbers of infinite proportion. Reflecting on this reality enlightens the sense of dependency functioning structures demand from one another. In this microscopic glance highlighting the effects of contemplative practices, I feel obligated to specifically express how participating in this activity helps in various aspects of my life. However, the specificity comes from a singular contemplative practice assigned as homework during the week on living systems.

The thread of enriching lectures began with the start of this quarter. In week two, a lesson focusing on the presence of living systems within living systems resonated with me. The informative section of the lecture itself was cleverly called “From Personal to Planetary.” The meditation portion of the week offered insights I had yet to consider. I observe myself as an extremely spiritual individual, and I posses a solid belief of acceptance that each cog in the machine we give and take from is a part of us as much as we are a part of it. This machine includes the lock, stock, and barrel from our industrial works to the dirt the worm slides over. I believe this kindred relationship between all things must extend from all we interact with, including ourselves.

Recently, I’ve developed a focus/ hobby on enhancing my flexibility. While I was listening to this unique practice, one idea that stuck with me was that I breathe in air that I am not the first nor will be the last to breathe. Even something as mindless as air interacts with everything. As I stretch, I believe in working with my body and encouraging its limits instead of disciplining them. Breathing is a key part of stretching. This association with all living systems, including myself, allowed me to understand how crucial all function parts are in every system no matter how small: from the air we breathe, to my body, to the world.

 

Drowning and Deep Breaths

Image: https://www.tga-ins.com/Newsroom/ArticleID/483/How-to-know-if-someone-may-be-drowning-Learn-the-signs

As I close my eyes to contemplate, every attempt to clear my mind brings rushing thoughts. My mind does not join my body in calm. Focus, focus, I tell myself. Why is this so hard? That is how many of my contemplative practices start. I am deeply meditative on my own self, but I never thought to bring my meditation to a global level. Was that even possible? I opened my mind and changed my perspective from the self to the world system. My experiences are like a coin. On one side, I find myself plagued by despair. On the other, I can achieve great calm.

In the hunger contemplative practice, we held an exhale for twenty seconds. My lungs screamed for breath. Every second, I told myself to wait a little longer, a breath would come, and finally, I breathed deeply. But as I breathed in deeply, a thought intruded. Could others? For people severely affected by COVID-19, their breathing is more like drowning. Every unassisted breath they take is never quite sufficient, and they are left with desperate lungs. These unresolved thoughts left me disturbed even after the practice ended.

On the flipside, contemplative practice can bring stillness, quiet, and calm. Our first in-class practice made me realize how tense I was the moment we were asked to relax. Every deep breath felt like releasing a burden off my shoulders. Then we were asked to feel our weight in our seats, to just know we exist. Framing the practice in that way made it much easier to remember that we are living, breathing organisms. We are not cogs in a machine. I learned that I have always stared at the vast sky, where I want to be, but I forget I am walking through a field of roses.