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Cohen, A. (April
2003). Light seen seeping through an opening in the heart’s
wall: A response to The Heart of Learning: Spirituality in Education Educational
Insights, 8(1). [Available: http://www.ccfi.educ.ubc.ca/publication/insights/v08n01/readersresponse/cohen/index.html]
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The
Heart of Learning:
Spirituality in Education
(1999) Edited by Steven Glazer
New York, NY.
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam
Light seen seeping through an opening in the heart’s
wall: A response to The Heart of Learning: Spirituality in Education
Avraham Cohen
University of British Columbia |
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THE
GREAT WORK
Happiness
is the great work,
Though
every heart must first become
A
student.
-Hafiz
(Ladinsky, p.74, 1999)
Reading The
Heart of Learning: Spirituality in Education was
a thoroughly enjoyable experience. So why do I feel grumpy?
I used to finish a book of this genre feeling excited
and thinking that I’d really learned something
new. What annoyed me during my reading of this book was
lack of guidance about how to create the profound experiences
detailed by the authors. Failure to describe the process
is a major omission. Authors contributing to this work
include Huston Smith, Parker Palmer, the Dalai Lama,
Bell Hooks, and Joan Halifax – I know that
they know something substantial that they are not telling
me…
How do we move from inspiration to action? Philosophy
professor, Daniel Vokey (2001) describes a core element
of Buddhist practice:
Buddhist
study…is primarily concerned with learning how to
correct the false views that reinforce our dualistic preoccupations.
Buddhist practice is divided into two broad categories:
formal periods of meditation on the one hand and post-meditation
disciplines on the other. In meditation practice, use of
one or another of a variety of techniques within a favourable
environment serves to interrupt habitual patterns, because
these practices are “in tune” with our fundamental
nature, eventually unconditioned awareness will be self-liberated:
the “knot of confusion will untie itself. (p. 224)
In educational environments, there is a need for a pathway between inspiration
and the lived experiences of both educator and student.
Here
is a personal story that moves from difficulty to inspiration
to lived experience. I had a student that was both very
defensive and aggressive in his participation in an adult
class of twenty. The defensiveness manifested as an inability
to take anything that he perceived as criticism and the
aggressiveness showed itself through over involvement in
classroom discussion. In meditation I held him in my consciousness
as if he were sitting in front of me and focused on him
in a very deep way. I heard his words and saw him in great
detail in his physical form, behavior, and feelings. I
went through a number of imaginary exchanges with him based
on my classroom experience. I then shifted and identified
myself with him. I felt myself as this person. I felt nervous
and in need of attention. That day I received an email
from another student expressing her concerns about this
man and his behavior. I wrote back and said that while
it was not right for me to comment on this person, I did
feel that if a member of any group was seen as a problem
then the group must take it on and look at how it was supporting
what was happening, how it was not owning its part, and
how it was not supporting and/or including this person
who was on the margin. My meditation in combination with
the email contact was the inspirational ‘moment’ for
me. I went to class the next day and talked about roles
in communities. I spoke about how to support everyone,
including the idea that those who are seen as troubling
always feel disconnected and outside of the group. I said
that every group has members who talk a lot and others
who hardly speak at all. Our job as a community is to support
each person and each part of each person. I said that this
does not mean being passive and allowing all behavior.
I said that it is possible to speak to persons who ‘talk
too much’ and those who ‘speak too little’ in
ways that were relational and supportive, no matter how
tough the message.
The
student in question spoke up after I had finished and talked
about how he always felt nervous
in groups and that his way of coping was to be over involved.
He asked for support in the form of having others give
him a signal in a “nice” way if he was going
overboard. The student who sent me the email made a point
of speaking to this man in the group. She gave him some
feedback and talked about her own nervousness about speaking
out. A nice connection occurred between them and this was
enhanced by the fact that it took place in the class. This
was a community developing experience as well as a personal
growth experience for me and for both students. The journey from experience in class
into my meditation and back into the classroom was significant
and meaningful.
The
words ‘community’ and ‘education’ are
in close proximity in a number of these essays. The authors
all have a strong conception of educational community–a
school setting that addresses both the human connections
and the academic dimensions. As a counselling-therapist
in private practice, workshop leader, and community college
instructor, I have worked at developing communities within
educational and therapeutic contexts. I have described (Cohen, 2002a) the requirement of inclusion
of the human element in classrooms. Facilitating the interpersonal
and intrapersonal dimensions in classrooms supports learning
about community, self in community, and creates a learning
environment that facilitates optimal curriculum access
for learners. “This requires…skills
of facilitation, understanding of group dynamics and processes,
and the acknowledgment and use of the leadership/mentorship
aspect of the educator’s role (p. 16).” What
I have endeavored to do, and what these educators do, is
develop community on a personal and academic level.
As
I read, I spotted a recurrent, endemic problem with ‘inspirational’ writing
in education. This is the embedded ‘shoulds;’ (e.g.,
you should trust your intuition, be yourself, nurture a
sense of awe and wonder in students, etc.). I love these
ideas and I am increasingly dissatisfied with the consistent
failure by authors to describe them as processes. Saying
that these particular ideas are a better alternative is
not sufficient. There are ‘good’ arguments
for the ‘shoulds’ that the above ‘shoulds’ are
meant to supplant (e.g., students need more discipline,
more of the basics, more testing, etc.). This polarized
debate is familiar, at times stimulating, and in the end,
changes little. What is missing is a process orientation
that recognizes that these polarized ideas are actually
characteristics of different developmental stages in classroom
communities and/or tensions on a continuum to be lived
in and in between.
And
then, unexpectedly, I came to a ‘stop,’ as
is described by Heesoon Bai (2003) in the current issue
of Educational Insights. “All
disciplining involves stopping what is out of control,
putting it into balance by recovering a proper context
and directing the flow between the context (the Ground
of Being in our case) and the focus (p. 11).” I literally
stopped, became conscious of my body, and felt a shift
within myself. I experienced a transition to a metaphoric
perspective. The poetic, the musical, the artistic, and
the light that seeps through the cracks in the heart’s
wall found me. I stopped looking for how to do ‘it.’ I
realized that any translation to actual practice would
have to occur in the alchemy of my unconscious, my intuition,
and from the source of dreaming itself.
Also
in this issue of Educational
Insights,
Alison Pryer (2003) writes,
The practice of a meditative art, such
as ikebana, helps
to cultivate an intuitive understanding of the fullness
of emptiness, and a deep reverence for the interconnectedness
of all things. This understanding gives rise to an experience
of communion, communion being a sense of non-dualistic
consciousness and participation in the world that nourishes
one’s desire to act with love and compassion (p.
10).
This passage describes the transformation
that I experienced while reading this book. I moved from
disappointment about what is missing to appreciation for
what is present and what is emerging. Pryer sketches the
potential ‘route’ that metaphor and practice
provide in the development of community and wisdom. She
recommends the metaskills of ‘love’ and ‘compassion.’ Metaskills,
a term defined by Amy Mindell (1995), are the feelings
and attitudes that a person brings with them in the moment
and are superordinate to any behaviors and/or verbal expressions.
From my new location,
I was struck by Judith Simmer-Brown’s fabulous images
in her article, Commitment and Openness: A Contemplative
Approach to Pluralism.
When we encounter the “other,” we often encounter the power
of the hidden wound of society. There is in our culture
an unacknowledged inwardness; a woundedness we carry
around with us both individually and collectively. Our
usual strategy
is to project this woundedness outward, onto those
who are different from us, and then become alienated and
fearful of this other. This can be seen again and again
in our
society in discrimination based on race, sex, ethnicity,
class, [and] age. Because of this wound, however, an
encounter with other can carry an additional power (and
wisdom too)
that we have not yet acknowledged. (p.98)
Simmer-Brown describes
a dakini as one who “appears in our everyday lives
as the unexpected woman who speaks the truth to our opinionated,
speedy minds” (p.106), and she goes on to describe
an encounter with a dakini.
‘You think you have powers? What do you think of this?’ She
drew from the girdle at her waist a hooked knife,
the kind of knife which dakinis carry. It had a curved
blade and
sharp hook at the end and was made of crystal, sparkling
with light. Wit it, she sliced her chest open with
a long diagonal sweep. And as she pulled her skin apart,
opening
the inside of her body, she revealed vast, unfathomable
space. And inside of it were the mandalas of deities,
but in a limitless expanse of space. (p.110)
The
dakini tells us that the wounding is to her-self, is self-inflicted;
that the other is us; that it is the collective us who
inflicts the wound on the other; and, most significantly,
that when we look deeply into the wound, vast and unimagined
possibilities, previously unseen, become visible, awaiting
communion with the explorer.
As
John Taylor Gatto suggests in his essay, Education and
the Western Spiritual Tradition, that
to see the dilemma clearly, the structures in consciousness
within which the dilemma exists have to be deconstructed.
He writes,
There must be some reason we are called human beings and not human doings. And I think this reason is to commemorate the way
we can make the best of our limited time by alternating
effort with reflection, and reflection completely free
of the get-something motive. Whenever I see a kid daydreaming
in school, I’m careful never to shock the reverie
out of existence (p.170).
Del
Prete (2002, p.165) quotes Thomas Merton (1979, p.4), “Learning
to be oneself means…learning to die in order to live.” I
would elaborate and say that learning to live and love
involves the death of the self that interferes with the
inherent capacity to live and love that exists within each
person, and that ‘only’ needs to be liberated
from its external and self-imposed incarceration. Liberation
involves opening the gates of the inner asylum to allow
innate capacities to emerge, thrive, and grow; capacities,
when allowed to emerge unimpeded, that are a natural and
positive energetic force. The question arises, how might I bring a metaphoric concept
of wounding in relationship with other and of the potency
of daydreaming to the deconstruction and rebuilding of
educational communities?
If
you are wondering about the transition from metaphoric
experience to lived experience in educational community,
try the following. Recall your own experiences of being
in this state of reverie as a child. Was it allowed? Encouraged?
Disrupted? Based on your recollection think about how connected
or disconnected you felt to the environment within which
you had your experience of reverie. To take this process
a little further allow yourself to go into this state of
reverie now. Can you go there? If not what happens? Think
about the affects on anyone in a group experience if they
have grown up in a circumstance where reverie was not allowed.
If you can experience reverie what do you experience? Allow
yourself to wonder how can you bring this into your community
experiences? What do you imagine about connection while
in your reverie? Individuals who are allowed their reverie
tend to be more comfortable in relational experience and
those who were not have the opposite tendency.
I
am still in some conflict about this book. I appreciated
the transformative shift that occurred within me and yet
I am still longing for
knowledge from these elders about
the process dimensions that shadow the lines of these essays.
Perhaps I can take some heart and hope from the words of
Simone Weil (1951),
If we concentrate our attention on trying to solve a problem… and
if at the end of an hour we are no nearer to
doing so than at the beginning, we have nevertheless been
making progress
each minute of that hour in another more mysterious
dimension. Without our knowing or feeling it, this apparently
barren
effort has brought more light into the soul (p. 106).
Read
for metaphor and spirit, the method(s) may emerge from
and for you.
I
would love to know what you experience.
I
invite you to
contact me and share your thoughts and feelings.
I
am hopeful.
I
am hopeful.
When
we ‘meet,’ I am hopeful.
References
Bai,
H. (2003). The stop: the practice of reanimating the universe
within and without. Educational
Insights. Vol. 8(2)., www.ccfi.educ.ubc.ca/publication/insights.
Cohen,
A. (2002a). Educational
Communities: Their Creation, Nurturance,
and Sacred Nature. Vancouver, B.C. Life Force Publishing.
(2002b).
Group to learn one-to-one process directed counselling
skills. Submitted.
Special
issue Training in groups. The Canadian journal of counselling.
Victoria, B.C.: University
of Victoria.
Ladinsky,
D. (1999). The gift: poems by hafiz, the great sufi
master. Toronto, ON: Penguin
Compass.
Merton,
T. J. (1979). Love and living. (N. Burton & P. Hart,
Eds.) New York, NY.
Harcourt,
Brace & Company in Del Prete, T. in Being
what we are in Miller, J.P. & Nakagawa, Y. (Eds.) (2002) Nurturing
our wholeness: perspectives on spirituality in
education. Rutland, VT: The Foundation for Educational Renewal.
Mindell, Amy
(1995). Metaskills: the spiritual art of therapy. Tempe, AZ.
New Falcon.
Prior,
A. (2003) The way of the flower: meditations on a softhearted
pedagogy. Educational
Insights. Vol. 8(2)., www.ccfi.educ.ubc.ca/publication/insights.
Vokey,
Daniel. (2001). Moral discourse in a pluralistic world. Notre Dame, IN: University
of Notre Dame Press.
Weil,
S. (1951). Waiting for God.
New York, NY. G.P. Putnam’s Son’s.
The
Responding Author
Avraham
Cohen is attempting
to become a human being. He also works in private practice
as a counselling therapist, instructs in the Counselling
Certificate Program at Vancouver Community College, and
is a doctoral student in the Centre for the Study of
Curriculum and Instruction at UBC. He has a great interest
in educational community, educational leadership, the
inner life of the educator, inspirational collaboration,
and the interaction and inter-being of all of things.
His publications include The whole person meditation
manual (2002), A small handbook about intimacy
and relationship for individuals and couples (2001),
and The Personal Potential Newsletter;
all published by Life Force Publications.
Email: lifeforce@shaw.ca
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