If you were to consider the mechanisms that you use as coping strategies in life, the things that help you get through life, what would they be?
Family?
Friends?
Animal companions?
Humour?
Connection to a broader reaching or higher order of power or intelligence?
How many of these places and points of connection have been reformed and remade over the course of your life so far? How many by you, and how many by others?
I was thinking about humour and the challange that it can create in some people, and how some people even use that challenge to shut down the expression of others, and i was wondering, who benefits from this and how?
I can understand why some theories of conspiracy point to the disollution and attacks on family, national identity, religion, humour, and more as being instruments of control, because by removing the structures and practices that make coping, not just possible but also meaningful - by removing connection in so many ways - are we not destroying some fundamental mechanisms that help us to survive (and prosper)? And more to the point, what happens to our lives as a result? And who gains from this state of affairs?
Do you have a motto?
Do you have a motto for life? A creed or a saying: a simple set of words to inspire and invite a shift in your state of mind or your way of being in the world?
Maybe it's one you've heard from somewhere else that stuck?
‘It's not how many times you fall over but how many times you get up.’
Maybe it's one you got from a film?
‘Once more into the fray, into the last g...
No to collectivism.
Yes to unity.
Some of the groups to which we belong like to argue that we benefit from their existence.
In some cases this is true, but not all.
There appear to be clear and inherent dangers in most ideologies. Not least because they tend to exist at one end of a spectrum, not uncommonly in seeming conflict with those at the other.
Even those who seem to seek a syn...
In that moment, collapsed on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, there was a part of me that knew why I was there.
While it was not a formal part of my Chi Gong practice to collapse into a fetal position and sob my heart out, I knew that was what my body wanted to do. And if there was one thing I had learnt it was to trust that sometimes my physical expression was not what my mind was antic...
