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.

 

What Contemplative Practices Have Taught Me About Problem Solving

In a course about the food system, it makes sense that we have time dedicated to digestion, to contemplation. To the breaking down and consideration of our place within the complex global food system.

But truth be told, my experience with these contemplative practices have been mixed. They have provided me with a chance to dive into my own experiences relating to food and to the world beyond my immediate reach. But there have been times when I simply could not comfortably sit through a full practice. I had to ask myself why did I have this sense of restlessness? I found that my response to the practice is dependent on two things: content and headspace. 

Contemplative practices will often require that I reflect on my own privilege within the food system. I recall sitting through a practice reflecting on the production of chocolate, and throughout this practice I alternated between feeling restless and driven as I began to try to figure out ways that I, as both a consumer who benefits from the current production methods and as a citizen who finds the use of unpaid labor appalling, could make a difference that actually matters.

I had entered this practice with a relaxed and clear mind, unlike days where I had entered a practice feeling mentally exhausted. Having a clear headspace allowed me to delve into the mixed feelings and thoughts I had in a constructive manner. On days where I enter feeling strained, I struggle to escape my anxieties and to focus my mind on the material.

Image is my own and may not be used without my permission; illustration of introspection within a particular headspace

These practices have ultimately led me to the following conclusion about how we approach systems: finding solutions to a complex problem first requires an analysis of one’s relationship to it, yet such analysis cannot be effectively done by an exhausted mind.

 

How Are You?

This is from an in-class contemplative practice we did on 4/14/20. The simple question was: How are you? Karen took us on a guided, grounding meditation, and I felt compelled to journal how this quarter is hitting me, personal realizations, and perhaps questions that might be useful to ask yourself. So, how am I?

I feel better sitting outside. I feel tense with the sounds of machinery. I feel stressed with the rushed pace of classes. I want to move slow, live slow, and breathe. I want to enjoy my life the way I like to enjoy it, not how America trains us to enjoy it. And it isn’t lazy. It’s valuing quality over quantity.

How can I live slowly when classes demand otherwise? Is it possilbe to move slowly through class and still excel? Do I have to keep riving myself along the edge of stress and anxiety? Or can I practic doing what’s asked and no more?

What will happen if I do this quarter my way? Cameras off when I can, outside, listening when necessary. Handing in quality, but not doing excess. Doing work as needed, but taking a break from leading and pushing others to my usual standard.

What if I take a break? Be and become myself: slow, relaxed, and not desperately trying too prove myself but rather being just…fine. What if I stop trying to make everything about impressing people and just take care of myself and be happy? Live for myself. I don’t have to be amazing. What will happen if I live without that stress?

These aren’t normal times. It’s been incredibly hard to check in with myself and try to give myself permission to not push to what’s become a breaking point due to personal struggles right now. Sometimes it’s OK to be OK, and it’s OK to not be OK. We have to take care of ourselves, not just right now, but always.