Irreverent

I’m learning a lot as I wander through this new life experience I’m having. As I meet more people, and introduce them to the lifelong practices I have followed, I’m discovering how many different ways people relate to what I hold as sacred. In this area of California, there are a wider variety of cultures that my students come from, and so the internal contexts they bring with them to classes varies widely. Some bring an approach of honor and respect, others come with a desire to add another variation to their self-care activities, and some come with open minds and hearts to discover something completely new.

Many of them have been told by their doctors to pursue movement (Tai Chi in particular), some are rediscovering interests that there wasn’t time for earlier in life, while others are being referred by happy friends or family members. Occasionally someone has experienced Reiki to their benefit, and is ready to learn more about how it actually works. For others, it’s just curiosity or the need of a family member being cared for.

I feel a wide variation in the way students enter the experience of being in a learning environment. I know from personal experience that joining a new group or meeting a new teacher can bring with it a certain amount of uncertainty, until trust is developed and relationship is formed. People have responded differently to the changes we’ve been through in recent years. The message that we’re in danger in a group has sunken into some more than others. Motivations for behaviors varies widely as well. Am I wanting to protect others or myself with my choices? Maybe both in some fashion. This question applies in all areas of life, not just in group settings.

As I’ve taught and practiced my arts since long before the intrusion of technology into our world, I can honestly say that it’s been a gradual transition that many don’t even notice is happening. More and more, I’m finding, people are distracted even when in class. I don’t know if feeling the need to drink water in the middle of class is habitual or a result of effective advertising over the years about how many glasses of water should be consumed each day. Or is it a “smart” watch keeping track of how many steps are being achieved?

Perhaps there’s anxiety about missing a phone call, or simply an inability to remain present in a class environment due to a subtle constant pressure that has been absorbed from the pace of our society these days? What has my students feeling so restless and distracted? Why don’t they recognize that it’s disrespectful behavior - to me, to them, and their fellow students?

It seems that there has been a tremendously successful fear campaign over many years that has invaded our private space and our minds. This gradual intrusion has had a huge impact on the quality of experience I am able to provide for the personal work of taking care of oneself - physically, emotionally and spiritually. These practices that I hold so dear were reintroduced into our society through the hippies in the 1960s. I believe that much of this search for something different came from the tensions in American society at that time.

Rebellious and irreverent, I followed in their footsteps looking for my own peace of mind. I remember a friend of mine who was a fellow martial arts instructor in the late 1970s. He had a bumper sticker on his motorcycle that said, “Defy Authority!” At first, I was like “Yeah, that’s right!” But then, it started to sink into me, “Wait a minute. I am the authority.” It was a moment of awakening to the idea of true respect for my martial art, my teachers, and my role in the dojo. Including what I felt for my students and fellow instructors.

Irreverent - “Showing a lack of respect for people or things that are generally taken seriously or treated with veneration. It often describes a cheeky, flippant, or humorously critical attitude toward traditions, authority figures, or sacred beliefs.”

This is the word that surfaced in me when I read an article recently, Medicine by Captivity: the Rise of the Hostage Physician, by the inspiring Dr. Joseph Varon. His description of what has happened to the medical industry, and the doctors who have committed their lives to helping others, brought forth a recognition of irreverence within the world of medicine. This attitude has been promoted through the takeover of our medical system by the insurance companies. One of the sections in his article that resonated deeply for me was:

“We entered medicine to care for human beings during the worst moments of their lives. That was supposed to remain the center of everything: the patient, the suffering human being in the bed. Not the dashboard. Not the metric. Not the throughput target. Not the insurance clock.”

And another one:

“Hospitals like to talk about physician wellness because it lets them treat the problem as psychological instead of structural. But many physicians are not burned out. They are morally exhausted.” {my italics}

I was completely unaware of how the technological intrusion I have been feeling in my small professional world has been engulfing the medical world a thousandfold. It’s a world I have stayed separate from as much as possible as I have sought out other approaches to health care for decades. It helps to explain the incompetence I have been experiencing in my more recent interactions with mainstream medicine. Thankfully, I’m finally finding some people who aren’t overwhelmed by the system and are finding a way to provide capable, warm-hearted service.

This may be harder and harder to find in the future as medical training programs are utilizing more and more technology that replaces instruction, modeling and mentorship by experienced doctors. Another fascinating article, Healthcare: A Wake-Up Call to Reclaim Excellence – Empowering the Next Generation of Physicians, Dentists, and Allied Healthcare Professionals by Jennifer Hibberd points out what is happening in the world of medical education that has never happened in previous generations. She supplies information about the transition to “screen-based learning” instead of mentorship, relaxed admissions requirements, and the wide-spread use of simulation instead of learning how to work with real people.

Is there not a certain sacredness to a learning environment? A place where inquiry is respected, thoughts can wander freely in and out of possibility, insights can be discovered, and a new way of being can emerge? Human, face to face interaction is absolutely necessary for a healthy learning environment. So much happens with a glance, a nod of the head, or a subtle smile that won’t be received through an on- screen interaction. Machines cannot replace living, breathing people for meaningful growth to occur.

In my own small way, I’d like to continue to create a sacred space for my students. Hopefully, they will slowly begin to recognize that the benefits of coming to class isn’t just the new information they’re gaining. In fact, it’s a place of safety, self-discovery, and shared respect for each other as we walk through life together.