Ecology, Deconstruction, Birds and the Plastic of “How to”

It is formidable for an individual to affront their culture.

First: what do I mean by “culture” and what do I mean by “affront?”

Cultures are human-made, developed through shared practices, over time and in relative isolation from other cultures. I invoke the term here loosely to mean “the water we swim in.” This water could range from family, community, organizational and institutional culture, to the internet. And when I say affront, I don’t mean through conventional means: town halls, internet proselytizing or marching in the streets. These methods are affrontive and necessary but are, at least in part, externally condoned and established paths of action. Rather, what I mean by affronting culture, is something that happens in small everyday private moments alone in the wilderness of our own minds. Doing the work of discernment between self expression and group cohesion. Separating the voices that we’ve internalized from the voice of our true Self. This is a private endeavor with far reaching consequences. Otherwise we perpetuate – as if without control, we go against ourselves to fit into culture – only to wake up in the dissonance and see we’ve parroted somebody else’s voice and upon examination of the impetus, found it wanting. Underneath many of the voices we internalize are ghosts. Familiar architecture shrouded in familial language, ways we’ve created survival strategies that freeze into identities, tired roles.

 

Meet the scaffolding. 

 

Internalizing the map of culture  – what I’m referring to as the scaffolding – directs our practices and behaviors. These can be practices from family of origin, religion and region specific. For example, there is a part of me that internalized the message that boys were better than girls. I can remember rebelling against this in the school yard, pushing against the barriers of access in my engineering degree and experiencing the degradation of my own safety countless times. My sphere of experience with this narrative is personal and universal and spans cultural barriers. In my case, it’s such deep programming that it comes out in shadowy, layered and unpredictable ways. As a result, I’ve carried the burden of playing small most of my life. Internalized sexism is just one facet of scaffolding I affront. In Process Oriented Psychology, in addition to the internalized narrative and voices of specific people, we also speak about internalizing roles. Because Process Oriented Psychology is rooted in relationality – the roles we internalize symbolize the complexity we experience in groups internally. Where a role is a sort of archetypal map for certain kinds of behavior. One could say then, that we internalize roles. You may know these as the masks you wear in public. Useful, they sync our observations and experiences with our survivability. Un-useful, they drive us away from the moment, away from the body, away from ourselves. 

 

~.~

 

I’m not sure what came first for me, waking up, standing up, pushing against, standing for… The imbued relationality is what interests me. For example: I’m suspended in, supported, as well as constrained by, this “thing,” this culture. But much of what the culture represents, I don’t like. Inevitably, as I brush with these edges, these juncture points of conflict or difference, I’ll be in relationship with that role, that narrative, that propensity… 

 

If internalized belief systems scaffold my psyche and drive my behavior, deconstruction then, is the dismantling of this scaffolding. No small task. These belief systems are often tightly nested at the intersection of identity and history. From personal and collective trauma, family norms, religious doctrine, cultural narratives, national identities, the market, etc. They get imprinted in the nervous system from experiences in this life, as well as carried in the DNA from distant pasts. Maps handed down through time, adding to the cultural memory bank. And since the recording is human-told, the telling is often asymmetrical. Asymmetrical because high ranking roles are exalted. This asymmetry stimulates the accumulation of power and scale, which not only skews behavior, systemically privileging some and disadvantaging others, but also creates a cultural golem that vastly outranks the individual. The individual then, is submerged in something that, in nonlocal, nonlinear ways, sits atop the individual informing and instructing. 

 

Stepping back for a moment. If I don’t assume you adhere to the idea that the current modern mega culture is destructive and toxic, you might be asking yourself something like: what’s the point, why would do all this work to dethrone culture’s authority?

 

There are many arguments to be made for why – I’ll make one. US culture, inspired by it’s predominantly Western European ancestors, has subsumed and destroyed while becoming what it is. A mega culture with immense power that doesn’t represent the truth or the majority. It dominates. It does not prioritize stories of reflection when it makes “us” look bad. Deconstruction, decomposition, surrender, fallowing, resting and dying are pewed by this culture. Rather, it extolls unending imperious consumption. And reinforces it’s dominance with stories of exceptionalism, entitlement, manifest destiny, legacy and individualism. 

 

At the root is a madness. Bloated madness, fueled by imbalance. At the root of it, it lacks reciprocity. 

 

This is a big problem. 

 

To illustrate, I will borrow a framework from ecology that I invoke metaphorically, analogously and also  argumentatively. But first, a basic assumption: nature makes humans and humans make culture. If you feel a tension between this assumption and your religious beliefs, add to it, God makes nature, nature makes humans, humans make culture. 

 

OK, do you remember learning about the ecological pyramid in school? Humans are depicted as apex predators at the top and biomass generated from the sun is at the bottom? As you move up the pyramid, energy is lost to heat and metabolic processes and at each step, energy is recycled by decomposers that supply nutrients back to the bottom of the pyramid. In this depiction, there’s no waste. Rather, death, deconstruction, fallowness and reciprocity normalize relations of the biosphere. From respiration, to the decomposition of an animal’s daily excrement, to the macro level seasons of the primary producers (where in winter, an entire four months of the year is dedicated to decomposition and fallowness). Death is built into the energy balance at every scale. Detoxifying and deconstructing through respiration, digestion, autophagy – constantly transforming chemicals and bits of damaged or dying cells and tissues all placed at the altar of the whole, the waste pile of the pyramid. Eradicating, cleansing, recycling. 

 

Let’s slow down a bit here… humans are complicated. In the words of Walt Whitman, “I contain multitudes.” We are indeed the material products of the sun, plants, beasts and energy we receive from breathing. We also contain subtle layers like mind and intellect, soul and spirit if you like. 

 

Do you see where I’m driving? There is a dissonance between what nature does according to the ecological pyramid (reciprocity) and what those responsible for creating culture (the multitudes) do. By portraying humans as bodies – perhaps there is an implicit assumption that we belong. Yet, we are nesting ourselves in a process that we don’t partake in. We assume the human mind is accounted for in the illustration of the cm tall human figure at the top of the pyramid. But this isn’t so. 

 

To recap: minds are instrumental in forming culture over time, which in turn drives and reinforces human behavior. If we follow Iain McGilichrist’s work, we can get more granular and say: it’s the left hemisphere of the brain and it’s propensity for linearity, control and growth that frames this cultural malaise I point to. Does it not make sense then, to review the power of the mind in directing our participation with the greater encompassing whole? 

 

This is a rhetorical question. Because, not to split hairs, but this is a big problem. 

 

The argument from a rational scientific paradigm that we are only bodies in this calculation is incorrect. The human mind is what designs the tools and creates the culture that affects the rest of the pyramid. A mind driven by linear thinking that fails to honor it’s relationality with death, deconstruction and fallowness – internally, externally, metaphorically and practically – is on a doomed trajectory. 

 

A theoretical link to this ecologically doomed trajectory is echoed in Marx’s metabolic rift theory. I learned of his theory from Kohei Sato who wrote “Marx in the Anthropocene.” Basically, in his study of capital, Marx found that the externalities of capitalist industrial pursuits were undermining the basis of life support on which the farmers and the rest of society depend. Relationships, rifting. Specifically, Marx studied the link between farming practices and soil degradation. For today, this theory empirically states the obvious. What’s relevant to me, is the implication of the word metabolism, relationality where death and growth are mixed. Marx didn’t need fancy theories from quantum physics (discovered ten years after his death) to tell know we’re connected, nor spiritual moralities from Buddhism or other religions to justify his theory. The empirical data was enough to firm up the implication of capitalist cultures in the degradation of their overall life support. Again in stating the obvious: the endless harvest and pursuit of power, control and wealth is dumb. Both from a survival standpoint and because it’s against the greater forces of nature.

 

OK, so we’re in relationship with a golem thousands of years old. I ask, if good relationships are mutual…  

 

Is it the responsibility of each individual human mind to deconstruct, decompose and heal? What skills, practices or mental technologies can correct this relationality? 

 

~.~

 

Many do-gooder types are rightly exhausted at the project of individual change being their only option. That we must recycle more plastic, eat less meat, drive less, even forgo child-rearing to save the planet. Don’t get me wrong, inner work is absolutely critical. But the idea that individuals are solely responsible and that our only leverage in culture is ourselves, is in many ways a smokescreen to distract us from the real monster. However, this line of thinking is logical coming from a mind that is created by the conundrum itself. From Einstein: you can’t solve a problem with the same consciousness that created the problem. Same-same. A culture that values individualism will create an individual who seeks a solution that relies on individuals. This mindset keeps us internalizing guilt and anxiety about our responsibility rather than taking action. Perhaps looking to something larger. 

 

If the rot is at the root, the solution is too. Inter-connection through feedback loops validates the intimacy I feel when culture is pressing on a distal part of me and my mind ancestors deep. 

 

If you recall the anecdote that started this all, my inner voice was saying, “I’m neither creative nor strong enough to create a life outside these influences, irrespective of my authenticity telling me to oppose them, or of my integrity telling me they’re wrong. It’s naive to propose a path aligned to my values and desires while still making room to laugh, dance and love like it matters.” While this doubting moment seems to obey logic and is possibly even true. What’s wrong with it illustrates the programming and that running through it is an erroneous assumption. 

 

Again to Einstein: the architecture of mind that gives rise to the statement of the problem is the same architecture of mind that created the problem. The program runs so deep in me, it drives me to assume that I should be able to be a hero to this world and that my worth is somehow tested against my deliverance from evil, i.e. my savior’ness. And then, if I’m deemed not good enough (and really what other option is there, if I can’t stop hatred and create a new global economic system), is life even worth living? I’m arguing that this inquiry arises from a mind infected by internalized beliefs that are out of sync with nature, among other toxins, and is pitting my values and desires against a system that breaks people like me, then weighs my worth against the project of remaining unbroken. 

 

Exhausting indeed. 

 

The answer lies not in a better question, although that may help. Short of utopian fantasies – where corruption, power and greed aren’t cultural gold – the answer is in the moment.  In the moment I have leverage because this is where awareness lives. Awareness to reality as it is, makes space for a witness. In this case, the space for me to witness my own internalized oppressor. The internalized oppressor’s voice plays the role of doubter on loop (“you’re not good enough!”). The voice of the witness however, is generative, creative, new. It says: “hi… from this vantage point, I can see you’re a fable I’ve been told. Wow. You’ve lulled me, sleepy-eyed for a very long time.” 

 

There’s a quality of “calling out.” There is cordiality in my tone, but I could be as angry, vulnerable or confused as I want. The belief, story, assumption, doesn’t know my name. The voices only hurt when I’m asleep in their culdesac, running their loop. As such, this one-sided, asymmetrical relationship only traps me only when I listen to it, when I believe it. Lifeless, but – left unattended to – siphonous. 

 

The upside is, in attending to these moments, energy and power are released. Yes. This innocent, fallow moment of presence, allowed me to peel back the curtain to witness the programming and inherent assumptions of my mind. Witnessing, I could trim the fat and toss it to the defrag and deconstruction pile. The reclamation of power and energy that came back to me was relaxation. A visceral levity that opened space for further inquiry.

 

Haaa, sweet-self-generated power. Sweet generative process. 

 

Credit where credit is due though. In my case, it was the birds that woke me up. 

 

In my perch, at my seat, through tears, I opened my eyes to see a bluebird around. It was new to the feeder. I know this because I watch them every morning. That, and its absolute inability to fetch food from the feeder was a dead giveaway. I watched it jump onto the arm of the feeder and spring off – miss. I watched it attempt to fly, beak first, thrusting full-on into the cage of suet and clumsily plummet – miss. I watched it try to hover, madly flapping, willing its beak to seed – miss. I watched it try and fail, again and again. I thought, while laughing at the poor thing, maybe it needed to watch another bird get food successfully (the highly favored equivalent of “how to” for birds), perhaps it could learn from a nuthatch that hangs upside down by it’s claws, or from one of the woodpeckers that wraps their entire greedy body around the feeder, thrusting tail while bobbing and chucking beak for seed. But no helpers arrived. I closed my eyes to let the experience land. And when I opened them again, to my surprise, the bluebird had figured it out! It had jumped onto the cage, landed and held on just long enough to peck a beakfull of suet. Hazah! 

 

This input showed me a bigger framing around my doubts. It showed me an embodied mind as a tool that learns and sharpens through feedback. An embodied mind… can you imagine? When it comes to individual sense-making, this is precisely the problem with “how to.” “How to” keeps us at a distance to our own experiential knowing. Sure, modeling and emulating are efficient ways to understand and learn some things, sometimes. They work for IKEA furniture, building a website, generalizable experiences. But “how to” for the intimacies of subjective you? By the way, I do get the irony and potential pushback here, around the way techno-capitalism pushes people into silos of narcissistic myopia. Take it as a matter of degrees then, that being subjectively you is a net positive*)

 

Reverence and practice in the art of decomposing the mind’s broken bits is one way to create a reflective, not just projective culture. But as alluded to in the metaphor, there are time scales of this decomposition and deconstruction. The exhale of an animal, the shifting of seasons. My personal deconstruction above, took a handful of moments. But what about long-term edges, chronic unawareness, deep patterns – what about the we’re connected to and impacted by others, culture, the world – things we can’t control? Indeed. Real, powerful, nonlinear feedback loops are at play. 

 

~.~

 

So, is it the responsibility of individual human minds to deconstruct, decompose and heal? 

 

Sort of. I don’t know. I think so. 

 

What say you? 

 

The privilege I have to think this way can’t be overstated. My privilege has served as a wedge of another sort – giving me distance from the tightly nested relationship with culture. Like the bird and perhaps like you, I’m figuring it out through initiation. I can say my push against powerlessness has driven me inward to what – if anything – I can control. This has been fruitful, I’ve learned a lot about who I am. But bear with me for a short sidebar to peel back the curtain again. Can you see how, implicit in that last statement: 1- I’m driven towards control at any cost and 2- I look for a value-add? Examining this dynamic, can you see evident in my language a part of me is against being powerless? Sure, to be fair, duh. It doesn’t feel good. But, it’s real. It exists. And no amount of my protest will change that. And with regards to the fruits of my inner work, implicit in their discovery, is the same asymmetric drive present. Find a solution at any cost! 

 

Oh, left hemisphere! What a futile, feeble mind. Who put you in charge, can’t you see that powerlessness and lack of control are part of life? You prove that in your mere push against it – small you are in comparison. 

 

Yes, hubris it is. To value only knowing, when not knowing is so critical. And not in a banal way as something we have to endure, like “life isn’t fair” or something, but as a mystery in which to run towards. I can’t count the number of times I didn’t know when something I thought was “bad” was actually for the best. Not knowing is what shows me my place. That I’m gloriously ignorant. 

 

Haaa, I don’t know it all and nor should I. Mystery, built-in for free!

 

OK, mystery sidebar closed. Let’s get back to the ecological pyramid and the question of choice. I know intellectually that I’m subject to the laws of nature – growth, creativity, decomposition, death – but being “subject to” and “flowing with” are miles apart. As the dense realms of body rise to the subtle multitudes of mind, intellect, soul and spirit, does the process continue? As I become conscious of my soup, my relationality within the soup, do “I” live subject to? Or am I flowing with nature? These layers where our subtle multitudes extend, access landscapes of narrative, realms of imagination, faith and mystery, where we confront, witness, discern and choose… this edgework seems to have choice built in. At least as a matter of degree. 

 

The question then is, does composting fragments of thought, emotion, beliefs and old narratives revitalize the whole, as it revitalizes the individual doing it? 

 

I argued earlier that (God makes nature), nature makes humans and humans make culture. The Frankenstein, the golem, the metal jaws of culture, sit atop the pyramid, assuming the role of apex predator: running programs – loops informed by the imbalance at it’s root. And yet, despite the size of the wedge the left hemisphere dominated mega culture makes between humans and nature, we are inseparable. The tools that correct the relationality then, are the very things we admonish: normalizing mystery and relationality styled with feedback loops of deconstruction. In fact, akin to affronting the metal jaws, simply standing for, “I don’t know” can be a small act of revolution. 

 

Collectively, the stakes are high: toxic culture, toxic humans, toxifying planet and all. And this is unfortunate, since negative pressure isn’t super motivating in light of the risk of internalizing pressure and weaponizing it against ourselves (insidious cycle). I was being sincere when I asked what skills, practices and mental technologies can correct this relationality… But we must be careful here. Let us not “how to” our way through the question. Rather, normalizing mystery, I invoke the birds: trial, error, growth, death, fallow, I don’t know, go slow, be patient, wait and see… 

 

I’m in the bludgeoning jaws all the time, as evidenced in my anecdotes. The malware is deep. But like you, I’m organic. Made of change. And in the midst of change, there are things I can depend on. Such as; mutuality, sensitivity to feedback, the trustworthiness of awareness – it’s intrinsic ethos, healing, whole’ing. And perhaps my greatest ally is my own longing. Longing that fuels my fight. Fighting because I have to. And I do it by deconstructing, composting, surrendering, lying fallow, letting to waste the mucus and gunk in my mind. And in so doing, I build defenses, immunity and healthy separation from the toxic influences of abusive culture. 

 

Is this revitalizing the whole, does it contribute to making a new culture?

I’m hopeful in the idea that inner work is world work. I used to puzzle over this Koan: is it to be taken in the affirmative, as a finding? Like, the two are somehow equivalent? But that’s not how it really hits for me. Inner work is world work, rather, I see as a portal. The point at which the two are in relation. A portal that reveals more of me, and potentially, to where you and I share a common base. Up in the noosphere, the collective unconscious, the soup… down in the body, the forging, the scrapes and the walking. Indeed a battleground, but also maybe where we become a collective.