Coffee May Protect Against Aging, And Caffeine Isn’t The Main Reason.
The places where we seek wisdom
In a world seemingly obsessed with youth, we can easily miss the gifts that come from our elders
At a recent retreat I attended at a Buddhist monastery in France, retreatants had an afternoon to put questions to a panel of monks and nuns. Almost all the questions were about how to remain actively engaged in living mindfully, whether developing nourishing practices for oneself and others or transformative resistance to injustice. While listening to the monastics offer their thoughtful reflections a question popped into my head: “Where do people go on a regular basis to seek wisdom?”
It doesn’t require a lot of research to know that most people do not actively engage with organised religion or spiritual practices and traditions in the same way they did in the past. Regardless of one’s opinions about religion and spirituality today, they were, for much of human history, the main routes through which communities sought guidance and direction for how to live their lives, how to contribute to society and what to do in challenging circumstances. That would be a wonderful topic for another day. But for now I’m wondering about the places we might rarely think to look for wisdom but where we might find wise guidance for how to live our lives.
I love the print “First Kick of Life”, a 1974 colour etching by American author, artist and designer Kay Brown. Held at the Brooklyn Museum, the print shows two mirror silhouettes of a pregnant woman, one blue and one white, set against an orange background. Brown was one of the founders of the Where We At: Black Women Artists collective (WWA), a group affiliated with the Black Arts Movement (BAM) of the 1960s and ’70s. Like BAM, WWA was focused on social awareness, artistic practice and self-representation as well as collaborative efforts for wider public recognition and reception of issues important to Black women artists.
The title of the print explains why the woman has her hands on her stomach: she is responding to the new life growing in her body. Shown with her back arched and head raised, she looks as if she is receptive to the knowledge her body is offering her: that it is full of life. This tender composition reminds me of the miraculous process of creating another human being. But it also prompts me to consider how our bodies constantly give us information about our internal and external life experiences. I think that to tap more deeply into this awareness is to begin to access the wisdom of our bodies.
That may sound vague, but I think back to how many times I have made decisions because of some gut feeling or when I have ignored my body’s cues. If we thought of physical sensations and emotional responses in this way, who knows how it could change the way we listen and respond to our bodies on a daily basis? And how that might affect our wider and interconnected lives.
In the 1894 painting “The Adoration II” by Swiss painter Ferdinand Hodler — an artist whose works I’ve discussed many times — a young boy centred in the canvas sits on his knees in a pasture of chicory flowers. His calves are tucked neatly beneath his thighs, and his hands, directed towards the ground, are gently held together as though ready to receive something. Hodler used his son, Hector, as a model for this piece.
The painting is seemingly simple and sparse. Yet the figure’s posture is one of reverence and makes me think of ancient illustrations from different spiritual traditions of a disciple or student sitting at the feet of a teacher, although here it is as if the non-human world takes the role of teacher. The concept of Earth or nature as a source of wisdom is not new, by any means, but it is one that we readily and repeatedly forget or ignore.
As April came and went, I found myself bowled over by how lush and generative the spring season has been. Cherry blossoms have weighed down tree branches, poppies have started to bloom in meadows, and the woods have filled out so one can barely see patches of blue sky unless you look straight up. What has continued to arise for me, watching this season unfold while also reflecting on the ongoing damage we, as a society, are inflicting on our planet, is how resilient Earth is, and how much of that strength might lay in its interconnected ecosystems.
There is so much wisdom for us to learn from how Earth survives and thrives through a web of interdependence across different species and from observing the more visible natural cycles of life throughout the year. Hodler’s painting reminds me that we are all, in a way, like children receiving the gifts of Earth’s abundance and generosity, strength and wisdom. Yet, unlike the child in the painting, too many of us are indifferent to the value and the wonder of this planet we inhabit.
I was immediately drawn to the 2021 print “Aunties Inside” by American multimedia artist Melissa Joseph. Joseph is of Indian and Irish descent and the print shows four of her aunties in India sitting closely together as if they are presiding over something, or simply holding court, waiting to receive us, the viewers. The women are wearing brightly coloured dresses and saris, and each of them is wearing a bindi in the centre of the forehead. Traditionally the bindi symbolised the third eye, an element of belief in some eastern spiritual and religious traditions that an invisible eye positioned in the middle of the forehead can be a portal of insight and wisdom, a way to see beyond the ordinary.
I wanted to include this image because I think many of us live in societies that continually diminish the significance of older generations. We value youth over advanced age, instead of learning to see and appreciate what every generation has to offer a community. Something about this painting made me think about my own childhood, both in Nigeria, where I am from, and in other countries.
I grew up with many aunties active and engaged in my life, and more generally in Nigeria children across ethnic groups and cultures are taught, from the moment we can understand, to respect our elders and be open to the wisdom they might have to offer. Of course, not every person older than you is wise, but people with more life experience often have some wisdom to share, even if it is about mistakes made and lessons learnt.
Sometimes, in a world seemingly obsessed with youth, as well as generally with what is new and cutting edge, we can easily miss the gifts that come from the life experiences and some sustained practices that generations held before ours. We do not always have to search far for wise counsel and guidance. Sometimes trees of wisdom are growing in our midst, if we could only recognise the fruit they offer.
