As I was sitting on my back porch reading one day, I realized that within arms reach was a container full of sand from Nova Scotia, another from South Africa, and yet another from the beaches of South Carolina. I had a moment of chuckling, thinking how willing my friends are to bring me bags of sand and dirt from their travels to be used in my mandalas. What is it, I wondered, that makes them scoop it up before they leave and then pack it away in their suitcases to travel many miles to my back porch? In that moment of awe I realized I could just reach my hand out, only to be able to touch pieces of Nova Scotia and South Africa and South Carolina. Indeed ~ the ultimate sense of connectedness ~ "to see a world in a grain of sand."
It all started when my friend, Carol, and I began sharing a process we called the Nature Mandala. The pictures you see are from those experiences. My journey with it, in writing my dissertation, took me to many places ~ one of the most important being our desire to feel connectedness ~ to ourselves, to each other, and to the Whole. Another place it took me to was the sacred ~ the numinous feeling I felt in the room during the process.
The Nature Mandala is a process whereby a group of people come together to create, improvisationally, usually in silence, though not in all instances, a mandala made of natural objects, for example, sand, sticks, stones, beans, flowers, pine cones, etc. Upon completion, the process is then used to facilitate dialogue, that is, reflection on not only the process, but also what emerged for participants during and because of it.
On connectedness:
When I started writing my dissertation, one of my officemates spoke of hearing on the morning news that after the shootings in Littleton, Colorado, it was suggested that if these events would have occurred ten or twenty years ago, that monies would have been spent to install security systems, alarms, and employ security guards. Now, however, they were saying that monies need to be used to teach our students, teachers, and administrators how to build community.
I was not surprised at the synchronicity of another officemate at the very end of my writing, sending me the following electronic mail message:
This morning on the news channel, an author, Dr. Edward Hallowell, Ph.D., was speaking about his book called Connection. It was very interesting and definitely should be used in the workplace, as well as the home, school, etc. He talked about how we need to feel connected to whatever is important in our life. Example: a child feeling connected to home does better and is less likely to get in trouble. An employee feeling connected (feeling of belonging and part of a team) gets sick less. He said connectedness is related to health mentally, spiritually, and physically.
I just about dashed to the bookstore to find his book. I anxiously read the book flap:
We are a nation of achievers but, as Dr. Edward Hallowell makes clear in Connect, what sustains us ~ emotionally, psychologically, physically ~ is connectedness, the feeling that we are part of something that matters, something larger than ourselves that gives life its meaning, direction, and purpose. . . Hallowell elevates the simplest forms of communication, understanding, and self-knowledge as examples of the human moment: the basis for the bridges we build to one another.
On the sacred:
At the end of his book, Synchronicity: The Inner Path of Leadership, Joseph Jaworski tells of a meeting held at Bretton Woods, New Hampshire where 350 people gathered "who had been actively engaged in creating learning organizations and communities." He shares a conversation held with Betty Sue Flowers and Peter Senge, where the meeting, at one point, came around to the spiritual. . .
"It's difficult, Betty Sue said, to find the language to talk about the life of the spirit in this secular world of ours. We need a language that brings us together about the deepest things we care about rather than pushing us apart. Peter said that a word he finds useful in talking about matters with the radiance of the Divine, beyond understanding or description, is 'numinous.' It's an acknowledgement that words and concepts no longer suffice, and that any attempt to articulate in any intentional way no longer suffices. 'I've seen many times in dialogue sessions,' Peter said, 'when we literally could not find words to speak. In fact, the incredible imprecision and inaccuracy of words was full in the room ~ and we just sat there looking in silence at one another."
"He went on. 'It's funny, we sometimes think words are the measure, and somehow think that our ability to articulate is a measurable business. But it's precisely the immeasurable that we most deeply care about ~ the undefinable, the intangible, the inexpressible ~ the real. There's a wonderful section in Bohm's book, Wholeness and the Implicate Order, where he talks about the root of the word 'measure.' The western word 'measure' and the Sanskrit word maya have the same root. The word maya in Sanskrit is the most ancient word for 'illusion.' The prevailing philosophy of the East is that the immeasurable is the primary reality. In this view, the entire structure and order of forms that present themselves to us in ordinary perception and reason are regarded as a sort of veil ~ a veil that covers up the true reality which cannot be perceived by the senses and of which nothing can be said or thought."
"Peter then turned to me and suggested that [we] . . . begin to consider the central question that was emerging in this conversation: How can we operate more consistently with the awareness that we aren't alone in this world?"
I do believe, that as Betty Sue Flowers stated, "we need a language that brings us together about the deepest things we care about rather than pushing us apart," and as Peter Senge said, we need to talk about the "numinous. . . it's precisely the immeasurable that we most deeply care about ~ the undefinable, the intangible, the inexpressible." And as Edward Hallowell said, "the simplest forms of communication, understanding, and self-knowledge are examples of the human moment: the basis for the bridges we build to one another."
In my experience, the Nature Mandala not only addresses these issues, but can help us answer the question raised at Bretton Woods: "How can we operate more consistently with the awareness that we aren't alone in this world?"
I offer these images for you to look upon, heeding the words of Hans-Georg Gadamer: "Let speak the text." As you journey through these photographs of various Nature Mandalas and the words attached, let speak them to you of the deepest things we care about. . . of the numinous. . . of the immeasurable. . . of the bridges we build to one another. . . of the awareness that we are not alone in this world.
Blessed be,
Cheryl A. Lossie, Ph.D.