Text: Chris McAlister, Bart Bloemers Image: Stock
Phanta Rei — everything flows
Two men stand in a decommissioned church in Amsterdam one evening in September. Friends and colleagues stand, sit and walk around them. One of the men has recently given a workshop on the theme of the Four Seas. The other is one of the main organisers of the entire event housing that workshop. Their talk turns to matters of organisation, planning and execution. There have been many difficulties planning and, not least, executing this congress, although by the standards currently applicable, it has been a raging success up to this point, a little over halfway through.
The conversation takes a more metaphorical turn — they discuss the difference between boxes and streams and, in particular, the importance of not being confined by boxes but free to be able to follow streams. The two men find themselves in a state of mild mental euphoria as the commonality and vitality of the theme opens up.
What is the nature of the box? It has a clear and discreet structure. It is fixed and relatively unchangeable. The floor is there, the walls and even a kind of roof in many cases. It provides a clear space but that space is finite. It has clearly defined limits. It has boundaries that can only be renewed by force. It sits still in its place, is entirely trustworthy and is — in and of itself — completely empty.
The stream provides a contrast in every single sense. It is pure flow and ultimately accepts no boundaries. Its structure has no inherent boundaries but accepts the limits of its current context as it shifts and changes. It moves continuously and should it cease to move, it will have ceased to exist.
The box is entirely dependable within its limited and clearly defined remit. The stream is entirely unpredictable, aside from one or two inherent qualities: wetness and movement. We have no idea where the stream will lead us but we know with complete certainty what the box offers as soon as we examine its contents.
Extending the metaphor, we might make a few deductions about box-like behaviour and streamlined living.
Living according to the box, we rely on logic and deduction. We work from what is and build our logical thought patterns on that which can dependably be inferred. We stay within the boundaries of what is and that which can be built upon it.
When we live by the stream, we are taken out of our comfort zone into the unknown. We can predict probabilities but have no certainties with which to operate. We move with the flow but we cannot foresee where or when we will arrive.
The box confines us to create safety. It gives us security and the ground feels solid beneath our feet. It limits our freedom to give us the feeling of protection. It provides solidity and seems to resound with the sense of the known — that which we know, we can trust.
The stream casts us into its flow and takes us to places unknown. It reveals life as it approaches with all its freshness and uniqueness. We cannot know what is approaching because it has not yet become. Forms are unfixed and horizons uncharted.
Living with the box, we scrutinise the map in all of its detail before we take a step forward. We predict and build plans based on factual information. We want the manual to tell us which step comes before which. We attempt to troubleshoot in advance — before the process has begun.
Riding the stream, the landscape is revealed as it is formed. The map cannot keep up with the ever-changing features of reality as they form in real time. The present is constantly overtaken by a new version of itself and then yet another and another. Taking stock is a moment in flux, swiftly rendered obsolete by its own unfolding creation.
Organisation might appear to be a function of box-like thinking: What do we want to achieve? Which resources do we have? What else do we require? What are the first steps that need to be taken? Which others after that?
This is an entirely illusory picture of how things really occur. That which we want to achieve is the product of a momentary vision. The vision is the crystallising of a thousand instants and realisations. It changes with very breath and rolls with the process unfurling. Each flash of planning and decision-making is likewise an act of creation, flowing from energy in interaction with the ever-changing moment.
Staying in the box, we limit our possibilities to the logically deductible. Each step must follow from the presently possible. The confines of the box show the limits of the thought processes available. Our plans are limited by what we can predict and deduced from the resources already in existence.
Flowing with the stream, our horizons are unlimited. Possibilities multiply as breath is taken and energy flows. Views open and the stream flows from moment to moment. As the flow proceeds, perspectives change. Nothing is constant; nothing except change itself.
You may argue that the box seems to provide a stable platform, giving us a safe place to start and security through clarity. We can discover what resources are available to us and take the steps that seem possible from the resources at hand. All of this is undoubtedly true. The danger lies in trusting that the box might also contain process and creativity moving forward.
The stream may seem dangerous — isn’t that like stepping out into the void, giving up all certainty and security? All knowledge of where we will end up? Every vestige of control? Yes, to a certain extent it is all of these things but that is to focus on the negative aspects of the stream. That is to ignore that the stream can take you to places you could never have imagined. The stream is full of resonance, suggestion and possibility. It has no limits and accepts only the most minimal of temporary boundaries as it moves along in its course.
The box will most certainly yield according to its finite contents and those contents are most certainly not to be denied or disparaged. The limits are, however, clear and determined. The stream is the realm of the infinite, the undreamed of, the becoming possible in the moment.
To become part of our own life process we cannot remain within the safe confines of the box. We need to step into our flow and trust in the power of the stream. To explore the realms of the possible we need the courage to move outside of the known. To discover our potential, we open the door, step out of the box and enter the stream.
Several weeks later the two men speak again, this time via digital link. Ideas are exchanged and plans laid. Key words and phrases arrive in written form, are then tweaked and returned. The ideas set in motion gather momentum, become prose and poetry, image and description, are set down. A first product is sent off, reflected upon, farmed out for comment and returned once more. A final exchange brings more colour to the palate and a rounding off is achieved.
May the words you are reading become the launching pad of the stream as it moves onward in your life and may the stream lead you where you need to go — not necessarily where you’d like to go….
Touching the Invisible
Text: Chris McAlister, Bart Bloemers Image: Stock
Phanta Rei — everything flows
Two men stand in a decommissioned church in Amsterdam one evening in September. Friends and colleagues stand, sit and walk around them. One of the men has recently given a workshop on the theme of the Four Seas. The other is one of the main organisers of the entire event housing that workshop. Their talk turns to matters of organisation, planning and execution. There have been many difficulties planning and, not least, executing this congress, although by the standards currently applicable, it has been a raging success up to this point, a little over halfway through.
The conversation takes a more metaphorical turn — they discuss the difference between boxes and streams and, in particular, the importance of not being confined by boxes but free to be able to follow streams. The two men find themselves in a state of mild mental euphoria as the commonality and vitality of the theme opens up.
What is the nature of the box? It has a clear and discreet structure. It is fixed and relatively unchangeable. The floor is there, the walls and even a kind of roof in many cases. It provides a clear space but that space is finite. It has clearly defined limits. It has boundaries that can only be renewed by force. It sits still in its place, is entirely trustworthy and is — in and of itself — completely empty.
The stream provides a contrast in every single sense. It is pure flow and ultimately accepts no boundaries. Its structure has no inherent boundaries but accepts the limits of its current context as it shifts and changes. It moves continuously and should it cease to move, it will have ceased to exist.
The box is entirely dependable within its limited and clearly defined remit. The stream is entirely unpredictable, aside from one or two inherent qualities: wetness and movement. We have no idea where the stream will lead us but we know with complete certainty what the box offers as soon as we examine its contents.
Extending the metaphor, we might make a few deductions about box-like behaviour and streamlined living.
Living according to the box, we rely on logic and deduction. We work from what is and build our logical thought patterns on that which can dependably be inferred. We stay within the boundaries of what is and that which can be built upon it.
When we live by the stream, we are taken out of our comfort zone into the unknown. We can predict probabilities but have no certainties with which to operate. We move with the flow but we cannot foresee where or when we will arrive.
The box confines us to create safety. It gives us security and the ground feels solid beneath our feet. It limits our freedom to give us the feeling of protection. It provides solidity and seems to resound with the sense of the known — that which we know, we can trust.
The stream casts us into its flow and takes us to places unknown. It reveals life as it approaches with all its freshness and uniqueness. We cannot know what is approaching because it has not yet become. Forms are unfixed and horizons uncharted.
Living with the box, we scrutinise the map in all of its detail before we take a step forward. We predict and build plans based on factual information. We want the manual to tell us which step comes before which. We attempt to troubleshoot in advance — before the process has begun.
Riding the stream, the landscape is revealed as it is formed. The map cannot keep up with the ever-changing features of reality as they form in real time. The present is constantly overtaken by a new version of itself and then yet another and another. Taking stock is a moment in flux, swiftly rendered obsolete by its own unfolding creation.
Organisation might appear to be a function of box-like thinking: What do we want to achieve? Which resources do we have? What else do we require? What are the first steps that need to be taken? Which others after that?
This is an entirely illusory picture of how things really occur. That which we want to achieve is the product of a momentary vision. The vision is the crystallising of a thousand instants and realisations. It changes with very breath and rolls with the process unfurling. Each flash of planning and decision-making is likewise an act of creation, flowing from energy in interaction with the ever-changing moment.
Staying in the box, we limit our possibilities to the logically deductible. Each step must follow from the presently possible. The confines of the box show the limits of the thought processes available. Our plans are limited by what we can predict and deduced from the resources already in existence.
Flowing with the stream, our horizons are unlimited. Possibilities multiply as breath is taken and energy flows. Views open and the stream flows from moment to moment. As the flow proceeds, perspectives change. Nothing is constant; nothing except change itself.
You may argue that the box seems to provide a stable platform, giving us a safe place to start and security through clarity. We can discover what resources are available to us and take the steps that seem possible from the resources at hand. All of this is undoubtedly true. The danger lies in trusting that the box might also contain process and creativity moving forward.
The stream may seem dangerous — isn’t that like stepping out into the void, giving up all certainty and security? All knowledge of where we will end up? Every vestige of control? Yes, to a certain extent it is all of these things but that is to focus on the negative aspects of the stream. That is to ignore that the stream can take you to places you could never have imagined. The stream is full of resonance, suggestion and possibility. It has no limits and accepts only the most minimal of temporary boundaries as it moves along in its course.
The box will most certainly yield according to its finite contents and those contents are most certainly not to be denied or disparaged. The limits are, however, clear and determined. The stream is the realm of the infinite, the undreamed of, the becoming possible in the moment.
To become part of our own life process we cannot remain within the safe confines of the box. We need to step into our flow and trust in the power of the stream. To explore the realms of the possible we need the courage to move outside of the known. To discover our potential, we open the door, step out of the box and enter the stream.
Several weeks later the two men speak again, this time via digital link. Ideas are exchanged and plans laid. Key words and phrases arrive in written form, are then tweaked and returned. The ideas set in motion gather momentum, become prose and poetry, image and description, are set down. A first product is sent off, reflected upon, farmed out for comment and returned once more. A final exchange brings more colour to the palate and a rounding off is achieved.
May the words you are reading become the launching pad of the stream as it moves onward in your life and may the stream lead you where you need to go — not necessarily where you’d like to go….
Touching the Invisible
Text: Chris McAlister, Bart Bloemers Image: Stock
Phanta Rei — everything flows
Two men stand in a decommissioned church in Amsterdam one evening in September. Friends and colleagues stand, sit and walk around them. One of the men has recently given a workshop on the theme of the Four Seas. The other is one of the main organisers of the entire event housing that workshop. Their talk turns to matters of organisation, planning and execution. There have been many difficulties planning and, not least, executing this congress, although by the standards currently applicable, it has been a raging success up to this point, a little over halfway through.
The conversation takes a more metaphorical turn — they discuss the difference between boxes and streams and, in particular, the importance of not being confined by boxes but free to be able to follow streams. The two men find themselves in a state of mild mental euphoria as the commonality and vitality of the theme opens up.
What is the nature of the box? It has a clear and discreet structure. It is fixed and relatively unchangeable. The floor is there, the walls and even a kind of roof in many cases. It provides a clear space but that space is finite. It has clearly defined limits. It has boundaries that can only be renewed by force. It sits still in its place, is entirely trustworthy and is — in and of itself — completely empty.
The stream provides a contrast in every single sense. It is pure flow and ultimately accepts no boundaries. Its structure has no inherent boundaries but accepts the limits of its current context as it shifts and changes. It moves continuously and should it cease to move, it will have ceased to exist.
The box is entirely dependable within its limited and clearly defined remit. The stream is entirely unpredictable, aside from one or two inherent qualities: wetness and movement. We have no idea where the stream will lead us but we know with complete certainty what the box offers as soon as we examine its contents.
Extending the metaphor, we might make a few deductions about box-like behaviour and streamlined living.
Living according to the box, we rely on logic and deduction. We work from what is and build our logical thought patterns on that which can dependably be inferred. We stay within the boundaries of what is and that which can be built upon it.
When we live by the stream, we are taken out of our comfort zone into the unknown. We can predict probabilities but have no certainties with which to operate. We move with the flow but we cannot foresee where or when we will arrive.
The box confines us to create safety. It gives us security and the ground feels solid beneath our feet. It limits our freedom to give us the feeling of protection. It provides solidity and seems to resound with the sense of the known — that which we know, we can trust.
The stream casts us into its flow and takes us to places unknown. It reveals life as it approaches with all its freshness and uniqueness. We cannot know what is approaching because it has not yet become. Forms are unfixed and horizons uncharted.
Living with the box, we scrutinise the map in all of its detail before we take a step forward. We predict and build plans based on factual information. We want the manual to tell us which step comes before which. We attempt to troubleshoot in advance — before the process has begun.
Riding the stream, the landscape is revealed as it is formed. The map cannot keep up with the ever-changing features of reality as they form in real time. The present is constantly overtaken by a new version of itself and then yet another and another. Taking stock is a moment in flux, swiftly rendered obsolete by its own unfolding creation.
Organisation might appear to be a function of box-like thinking: What do we want to achieve? Which resources do we have? What else do we require? What are the first steps that need to be taken? Which others after that?
This is an entirely illusory picture of how things really occur. That which we want to achieve is the product of a momentary vision. The vision is the crystallising of a thousand instants and realisations. It changes with very breath and rolls with the process unfurling. Each flash of planning and decision-making is likewise an act of creation, flowing from energy in interaction with the ever-changing moment.
Staying in the box, we limit our possibilities to the logically deductible. Each step must follow from the presently possible. The confines of the box show the limits of the thought processes available. Our plans are limited by what we can predict and deduced from the resources already in existence.
Flowing with the stream, our horizons are unlimited. Possibilities multiply as breath is taken and energy flows. Views open and the stream flows from moment to moment. As the flow proceeds, perspectives change. Nothing is constant; nothing except change itself.
You may argue that the box seems to provide a stable platform, giving us a safe place to start and security through clarity. We can discover what resources are available to us and take the steps that seem possible from the resources at hand. All of this is undoubtedly true. The danger lies in trusting that the box might also contain process and creativity moving forward.
The stream may seem dangerous — isn’t that like stepping out into the void, giving up all certainty and security? All knowledge of where we will end up? Every vestige of control? Yes, to a certain extent it is all of these things but that is to focus on the negative aspects of the stream. That is to ignore that the stream can take you to places you could never have imagined. The stream is full of resonance, suggestion and possibility. It has no limits and accepts only the most minimal of temporary boundaries as it moves along in its course.
The box will most certainly yield according to its finite contents and those contents are most certainly not to be denied or disparaged. The limits are, however, clear and determined. The stream is the realm of the infinite, the undreamed of, the becoming possible in the moment.
To become part of our own life process we cannot remain within the safe confines of the box. We need to step into our flow and trust in the power of the stream. To explore the realms of the possible we need the courage to move outside of the known. To discover our potential, we open the door, step out of the box and enter the stream.
Several weeks later the two men speak again, this time via digital link. Ideas are exchanged and plans laid. Key words and phrases arrive in written form, are then tweaked and returned. The ideas set in motion gather momentum, become prose and poetry, image and description, are set down. A first product is sent off, reflected upon, farmed out for comment and returned once more. A final exchange brings more colour to the palate and a rounding off is achieved.
May the words you are reading become the launching pad of the stream as it moves onward in your life and may the stream lead you where you need to go — not necessarily where you’d like to go….
Touching the Invisible