Unlearning to reimagine and rebuild
Reflections on my Eco-versities experience
I have a funny habit now of doing what I am told – with particularly great fervor, when the source of the telling is unknown. These divine directions come to me unmediated by concept or language. I simply sense a weight of settled certainty that something is happening. It usually arrives accompanied by a healthy dose of confusion about why and what for.
The latest set of instructions brought me to a farm-school-monastery oasis known as Mab Ueang. A place where rivers merge, and red flowers bloom. I was sent by someone who I have never met in person before – a woman who follows me on social media because she read my book several years ago. Yet I trusted her. I signed up without knowing the organization, without any clarity about the gathering that they were hosting.
It was an un-conference of planetary stewards, convening from places as far flung as Zimbabwe, India, Brazil, South Africa and Canada. A hundred or more of us form a circle of carers. A flash-love community that honors ancestral wisdom and respects nature.
I sat at a table alone on the first day. The new kid in the cafeteria. I felt an echo of teenage awkwardness and insecurity arise, as I made myself busy and fascinated with the lunch on my plate. I was an island in a sea of old friends having joyful reunions. I remembered similar situations from the past, where my social anxiety was read as arrogance, and I felt paralyzed.
I had no map, no schedule, no context, no objective to anchor me. I felt alien and overwhelmed. Sessions were held in a large hall, where the din of voices echoed. Having grown accustomed to an abundance of silence, this was confronting. I was adrift in the stream, trying to stay afloat, waiting to catch the current and feel flow.
There were those who seemed to shout to speak, while others sat back silently in the corner. Some were dancing at every break. Others bowed to me with prayer hands when I leaned in for a hug. All ways were welcomed. All ways respected. And instead of disharmony, what emerged from this allowing was a beautifully varied experiential tapestry.
I observed resistance arising from my own conditioning. Impatience when things took longer than expected. Frustration when planned sessions didn’t happen. But then, I gave myself permission to dip in and out of the main stream of group activity. And that’s when things shifted for me. I reclaimed the freedom of choosing, so I could feel my own rhythm again. I discovered my happy place under a grandmother tree, where I would take time out to recharge when I needed a break from too much talking.
Unlearning is a term that I started to hear repeated throughout the week. And I only realized in retrospect that this is what was happening within me. I got to experience it, before it was explained. Because of this, the unlearning was embodied, not just understood. Slowly, the emergent quality of my experience began to occur as beautiful to me.
The matrix is not a place. The matrix is not a situation. We cannot leave it. We can only break it. The matrix is a mind-created trap that replicates itself endlessly until we change the mind. And even after changing our mind many times, the shape of memory returns without diligent awareness.
I know already. But I forgot and I got reminded again – about the power of choosing, and the power of participation.
I lived the shift that happens when we go from consuming mass-produced reality, to co-creating our own unique experience. When I took responsibility for myself, I was able to find a rhythm that matched my music; to find spaces that nourished my needs.
The more I opted out of the program, the more I could choose my own adventure. I enjoyed an intimate dance with the fluid truth of the moment. I found the most beauty in the unscheduled one-on-one meetings. The stolen moments on the way to the toilet, coffee truck conversations, exchanges in the queue for food, and spontaneous chats in front of the temple.
I met people engaged in a vast array of projects. Each unique in form and focus, but all sharing the same heart. The gathering wove a borderless web: full of organic farmers, community designers, natural builders, psychedelic therapists, holistic healers, traditional medicine practitioners, free thinkers, deep ecologists, shamanic poets, mystical writers, authentic movers, inspired dancers, musical facilitators, circle leaders, and experiential teachers.
The heartening that happened touched something deep within me. When we feel safe to be in presence, we can reach depth even in the briefest shared moments. No energy wasted on performance. With masks relaxed, magic has space to dance. I got the real news update on where humanity is going. We are a global movement that is growing. Team humanity. Team Life. Team Earth. We are huge. And now exploding in a massive expansion.
This un-conference is a fractal – a small, local-to-me example – of what is taking place now all over the planet. We are waking to the misery caused by our overconsumption and chronic extraction. We are coming together to heal, to learn, to build a more beautiful world together. What I see here is that a turning point came and went. We have tipped over now. What was once considered quite crazy, strange, or fringe, is now the new normal.
I wonder if we can celebrate this moment, as we continue to hold uncertainty as a dear friend. I worry that if we get too comfortable here, it might lead us to separate into strata again. We could very easily recreate hierarchies – with levels now defined by spiritual advancement instead of material acquisition.
But it’s a never-ending journey we are on together. We may master one domain, while birthing a beginner mindset to engage what’s next. We are all unique, but no one is special. We are all valuable, but no one is important. We are all us – there is no “them.” May humility and interdependence become us. Again and again.
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