Chapter 3

Changing the Game Play

Seek wisdom while you have the strength, or you may lose strength without gaining wisdom.

Ancient saying

There is a story that is told about a wandering stranger who once stopped a king in the street. Furious, the king shouted, ‘How dare you, a man of little worth, interrupt the progress of your sovereign?’ The stranger answered: ‘Can you truly be a sovereign if you cannot even fill my begging bowl?’ And he held out his bowl to the king. In wishing to show his generosity to the crowd that had now assembled, the king ordered that the stranger’s begging bowl be filled with gold. But no sooner did the bowl appear to be full of gold coins than they disappeared and the bowl seemed empty once again. Sack after sack of gold coins was brought, and still the begging bowl devoured them all. ‘Stop,’ screamed the king, ‘This trick of yours is emptying my treasury!’ ‘Perhaps to you I am emptying your treasury,’ said the stranger, ‘but to others I am merely illustrating a truth.’ ‘And what truth is this?’ asked the king. ‘The truth is that the bowl is the desires of humankind, and the gold is what humanity is given. There is no end to humanity’s capacity to devour, without being in any way changed. See, the bowl has eaten nearly all your wealth, but it is still an empty piece of carved old wood, which has not partaken of the nature of gold in any respect.’

What this tale illustrates is that many of our old ways of doing things are devouring both the world and our own sense of worth, without producing real change within us. Observing our current epoch, with its varied ideological and political conflict, mental conditioning and strife among peoples and nations, it appears that our collective body is in a state of global psychosis. Nothing short of a global revelatory experience, or epiphany, is required.

For the past several thousand years at least the human race has defined itself through crisis and calamity, struggle and greed. We have recently crammed ourselves into conurbations – densely-packed city spaces where daily we pass thousands of people, with tens of thousands more living within a few minutes’ travel of where we are, and yet we each act indepen dently, unaware of our intrinsic interdependence. Psycho logically we are separated, feeling alone, whilst our inherent connectedness lies under our skin and all around us. In a play by Luigi Pirandello – The Man with a Flower in his Mouth – a man emerges from a doctor’s surgery with a fatal diagnosis; with this knowledge of impending death the man’s world suddenly changes and every small thing has significance. He undergoes a conversion of consciousness: the bleak diagnosis and shock are followed by a courageous renewal. Perhaps ours is a world with a flower in its mouth . . . as we move through the transition and its associated initiatory impacts. Maybe we are facing an historic episode of rebalancing on an epic scale, signalled by spiralling unrest in the collective consciousness of humanity. That we have no cultural memory of having encountered such an epochal transition before places us in frightening new territory. As Richard Tarnas says:

Perhaps we, as a civilization and a species, are under going a rite of passage of the most epochal and profound kind, acted out on the stage of history with, as it were, the cosmos itself as the tribal matrix of the initiatory drama.1

Any society or civilization which makes the material world its sole pursuit and object of concern cannot but decline in the long run. That is why the game play needs to change, and why the current generations have a responsibility to be a part of this constructive change.

For us to evolve as a species and as a planetary civilization we need to co-exist with the Earth’s systems and to under stand those laws that are in harmony with a long-term future. This may be the only way toward advancing the evolution of the human being; and it is common sense too. The famous British historian Arnold Toynbee claimed that civilizations emerge and evolve when they are governed by a creative minority that inspires the people. In turn, civilizations enter decline when the dominant minority fails to inspire the rest of its people and prefers to follow a status quo of power rule. This begs the question – are we being inspired? Or rather, can we be inspired to become the very social agents of change?

Social agents of change are those people in every society who are not afraid to break away from the norms of social conditioning and to think for themselves. The awakened individual is now required more than ever, so that conscious thinking and conscious behaviour can co-create a way forward, through the morass that surrounds us. As I discuss in Part Two, the rising change has already begun – and we need to take notice of this shifting ground.

The bottom line is that we need to accept that there is the possibility for self-development – work on ourselves – that in turn has an impact upon the grander developmental cycle of civilization. We need to recognize that we often live our lives within a distracting social milieu, and how it is crucial we align ourselves with those positive ideas that reflect our capacities and strengths. In other words, to feel empowered and not powerless, to possess an inner confidence that allows us to work in our external environments in the ways most appropriate. It is time to stop playing their funny games, and to begin taking responsibility for our own minds and actions. It is time to become the new wave of change agents upon the planet – to facilitate the rise of what I call the new monastics.

The New Monastics

There is an old folk tale which tells of the wise fool who arrives at the door of the king’s castle asking for entry. He is immediately told by the guard that the king’s decree is for each person to state their business and that anyone who tells a lie has to be hanged. Now, when asked why he has come, the wise fool replies, ‘I am going to be hanged.’ ‘I don’t believe you!’ exclaims the guard, ‘You are lying.’ ‘Very well, then. If I have told a lie, hang me!’ ‘But if I hang you,’ replies the guard, ‘then you would have told the truth and I shouldn’t have hanged you!’ ‘Exactly,’ replies the wise fool, ‘This is your definition of truth.’

The nature of ‘truth’ in our subjective world lies more in the realm of rhetoric than it does in relation to any objective sense of the word. Nobel laureate Doris Lessing makes a parody of this in her novel The Sentimental Agents in the Volyen Empire, where one of the main protagonists falls victim to the dreaded disease of ‘Rhetoric’. In a bid to cure him another friend introduces him to what is tactfully disguised as the ‘Institute for Historical Research’, when in reality it was constructed as the ‘Hospital for Rhetorical Diseases’. Rhetoric then, for Lessing, is a disease that can afflict people almost unknowingly – the disease of misapplied language for an explicit agenda. I wonder if many of us are not also suffering from the disease of Rhetoric? Is it not, after all, the ‘rhetorical disease’ that has created much of our old-paradigm thinking? It is important that our new models of thinking do not become hijacked and appropriated into a modern mental theme park of political deception, corporate duplicity, Armageddon fears, ET salvation and star-gazing apathy.

Unfortunately for us the ‘modern mental theme park’ already appears to be in full swing. However, if we look around carefully we will see that life at the centre of this theme park does not look so rosy either. The ride is changing – these are the years when the ‘central core’ will find itself increasingly vulnerable to the periphery. The incumbent consolidated structures of control are seeing disruptive change emerging in places where they never expected it. These unexpected emergent disruptions – what we can call disruptive innovation – are creating the new wave of change and innovation (as I discuss in Part Two). Rather than having a grand and sudden collapse, what we are likely to see are ‘transformational patterns’ in which fragments of the old-paradigm cultures persist alongside the emergence of the new ones. That is, the new models/patterns/mythologies will emerge as supple mentary ones that will develop parallel with the older models until finally replacing them – the new game rules! Call it a takeover if you will. I prefer to think of it as a transition, with different accompanying levels of smooth ness (from quite smooth/fairly peachy to a bit rough).

Another caveat is that within these transform ational patterns are also the windows of opportunity for the soothsayers, false prophets, gurus and self-appointed ‘spiritual teachers’ to take advantage of the increased sense of dislocation and fluidity. We need to be alert to the old minds of the status quo co-opting the new initiatives by incorporating them as their own. This could serve to give the illusion that serious changes are under way. The truth, unfortunately, is that there is little change possible from the core stance of the status quo – our platitudes become theirs, and the only thing that changes hands are empty words. That is why change must be actual rather than theoretical.

As is known from the pattern of social cycles, real change occurs when anomalies – another word for the change agents – become too numerous to be absorbed into the incumbent system. That is why individuals and groups ‘doing their own thing’ are so important right now. Almost all great ideas and innovations began life as ‘disruptive’ from the periphery, from ‘outsiders’ – those people just going it alone, often ‘outside the box’. I’d like to refer to such people as the New Monastics – from the monastic model of action whereby individuals/groups just get on and create new ways of doing things without fanfare or large billboard announcements. Such monastic work, so to speak, often operates below the radar, being authentic in activity rather than seeking visibility. The monastic worker, in seeking change, chooses a way of life that has meaning and that can be a heritage for the family and for the future. Often the monastic workers strive to assist change within their own communities. They are like ink dots on the paper, slowly spreading their impact by diligent yet creative work. What makes this model not only more appealing today, but also much more effective, is the rise of global communications and distributed networks. Now, the hard-working monastics can connect, share and collaborate.

We do not need to be waiting around for the ‘Next Big Thing’ or some grand televised miracle. If we are waiting for the current global system to implode completely before we decide to do something, we might miss the boat. World systems don’t disappear – they restructure. This restructuring usually occurs during the decline phase, with parts of the old model struggling on until they become the materials (or spare parts) from which the restructuring emerges. It’s not a simple case of one model suddenly coming in to replace another. During the ‘rise and fall’ pattern there occurs the recycling and re-use of social structures, practices and resources. In other words, the transformation usually occurs within the dynamics of internal collapse. It is difficult at times to see this as trans formation, as transition may be indistinguishable from dis integration in the early stages. Yet in times of transition, such as we are in now, the monastic workers have greater potential to effect change because there is so much instability in the world. The ‘larger system’ is currently more vulnerable to shifts from within. By each one of us making a change, and participating through small-scale contributions, we can create greater impact in the world than we would normally.

It is an ideal time now to look toward our own lives and our futures, and to start creating for ourselves the changes which we wish to see. It is time to examine our lifestyles – the food we eat, our securities, our dependencies, our networks, our finances and so on – and to be truly honest with ourselves. As I outline in Part Two, many people are already creating change through starting community projects and forming new networks. Within this – our Bridge Generation – the rising has already begun.

The future is going to be about the people on the ground. It will be about the changes each of us makes in our lives to be more aligned with moving forward. It will be about how resilient we are to the shocks/changes that are coming. It will be about how to cultivate a focused and positive state of mind and being. And importantly, it will be a question of how to be inherently spiritual in ourselves yet practical in our applications. Transitional periods are not normal times – they are periods when individual action can have much greater impact on historical developments. Yet true monastics not only operate as efficient workers on their own – they also know how to come together. There is a tale that illustrates this, which I call the Meeting of Tools:

It is told that there was once a carpentry shed where all the tools held a meeting to settle their differences. At the head of this strange assembly was the hammer acting as president, but soon the other tools declared that he had to resign because he made too much noise with his blows. Hammer admitted the charge but he refused to resign from the presidency because it would mess up the organization, and if the screwdriver took over, as he was wanting to do, this would only screw things up and make the meeting chaotic and without order. The screwdriver and all kinds of nails argued against this, while at the same time objecting to the sandpaper taking the presidency as this would create excessive friction with his usual rough treatment. Others agreed with this, and also said that the tape measure should be thrown out of the meeting as he always evaluated others according to a fixed pattern, as if he were the only one who was perfect.

Finally, the carpenter arrived, put on his apron and set about his work. He used the hammer, sandpaper, tape measure, nails and screws. Finally, the initial block of rough wood turned into a beautiful and useful piece of furniture. When the work was finished the carpenter silently left the room, and once again the tools’ meeting was resumed. That was when the saw began to speak. He said:

‘Friends, it has been shown to us that we each have our flaws, but the carpenter works with our qualities – that’s what makes us valuable. Let us not think more on the negatives we see in each other; rather let us see the skills that we each contri bute, and which the carpenter appreciates and uses to the best.’

The assembly then realized that the hammer was strong and gave force to the nails; sandpaper was able to polish and smooth things over; and the tape measure was accurate and precise. Together, they were a team capable of producing high-quality furniture. This made them proud of their strengths and capable of working together. And from then on everyone became the best they could and worked in harmony to create the most beautiful and functional furniture one could ever hope to find.

As a global community of individuals we are being urged toward supporting a creative and shared developmental consciousness. Through a combination of physical changes on the social, cultural and political levels people all over the world are beginning to awaken to the recklessness inherent in our situation. From this there may be further ‘awakenings’ as the ironic, incredible and often absurd factors of many of our lifestyles are brazenly shown in the shocking light of current times.

In these upcoming years new monastics will continue to emerge throughout the world, becoming agents of change within communities. They will spread their influence through social networks – both physical and virtual. In order to ‘change the world’ we must first become change agents within ourselves. We must aspire toward a heightening of conscious awareness and intuitive understanding. Humanity is naturally integrative, and does not consciously seek to separate. Integral consciousness2 is an aspect of the new monastics who are conscious of the underlying interconnectedness. Each person can be a part of this groundswell, with strong and confident voice and deeds, and yet devoid of ego and grand announce ments. Such change catalysts can create meaning and significance in everything they do – even the small seemingly mundane things. Our modern modes of connectivity and communication can bring the new monastics into a networked gathering of heart–mind– spirit practical and visionary workers.

How difficult or easy the transition times will be depends much upon the response of each person. The keys to our collective development may very well have been planted within each of us, in our social sense of responsibility – in our innate urge to come together. The human species is, after all, a social species (as anthropologists keenly like to remind us!). It is easy to behave ‘spiritually’ when one is confined to the hermit’s cave – then our only struggles are with our own ceaseless thoughts. Social participation is a responsibility to friends, family, community and to the wider world. It may well be that as times become more testing for many people the emphasis will shift toward the need for more integrated communities. Whatever the circumstances, much will be expected from people in the coming years as they face increased challenges and uncertainties – situations for which history holds few guidelines and precedents. The new monastics will be needed more than ever.

We must now accept that there is great need to ‘Work’ – to recalibrate and reinvigorate our relationship with the world we live in. This is not a time to fear for loss, but rather a time to aspire to new possibilities; to bring in new air, new potentialities and new gains. There is no clinging to the old when there is much vigorous work to be done. In this way, the new monastics will help to seed the coming generations that will be born as change – the Phoenix Generation – whilst being a pivotal part of the transitional Bridge Generation.