“Every response, whether it be an act directed towards the outside world or an act internalized as thought, takes the form of an adaptation or, better, of a re-adaptation.” 

Jean Piaget, The Psychology of Intelligence

I took my written exams for my doctorate the week of September 11, 2001. I had to write several essays over the course of a weekend on everything from learning theory to the history of education to research methods to a brief explanation of the research question my dissertation would explore. We were given a choice. We could postpone our exams amidst the pain our country and world were suffering—or—we could choose to take the exams. We took the exams.

I focused my learning theory response on Piaget’s theory of cognition, specifically on disequilibrium. Generally speaking, Piaget’s learning theories address the stages of children’s development. For Piaget, development happens in discrete stages where skills and abilities progress with age in typically developing children. In his cognitive development theory, Piaget suggests that humans naturally seek — through a process of assimilation and accommodation — a state of cognitive equilibrium. Cognitive equilibrium can be disrupted by new information, trauma, or illness. My qualifying exam essay explored disequilibrium in that immediate post-9/11 context.

I have been thinking about that essay this week. I feel disequilibrium as I sort through court rulings, debates, heat waves, and the day-to-day coming together and falling apart. I have looked to seasons, stars, tides, mornings, moons, and muscle memory to relieve the disequilibrium. I am not alone in feeling that things are shaken to their core. I am not alone in wondering how we arrived here. I am not alone in reaching for a hold-it-in-both-hands, feel-it-in-our-bones, vulnerability-as-superpower, compassion-fueled-truth kind of hope. We are challenged to love one another while living in disequilibrium.

What I Keep Learning

This Very Moment Is The Perfect Teacher

We can meet our match with a poodle or a guard dog, but the interesting question is – what happens next? – Pema Chords

The third chapter in Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart, “This Very Moment Is The Perfect Teacher,” introduces the idea that the present moment, as fallen apart as it is, can be our teacher. That is a comforting and hopeful thought. Somewhere in that idea lives wisdom, peace, and meaning.

Read more here.

We All Breathe the Same Air: A Gratitude Conversation with Janice Nolen

In the wake of the Supreme Court reversing Chevron deference, this week was sad for those concerned about our earth, particularly the constitutionality of our Federal government protecting our air, water, and land. My dear friend Janice committed her life to protecting the air we breathe. At the American Lung Association, she was the lead author of the annual report, “State of the Air” – an annual report card on air quality. I talked with her several years ago about the concept of gratitude. Though she is no longer with us, her words remind me of how important it is to keep listening, leading, marching, and writing, especially now.

Read the conversation here.

Oh Sumptuous moment

Oh Sumptuous moment/ Slower go/ That I may gloat on thee -// ‘Twill never be the same to starve/ Now I abundance see -// Which was to famish, then or now -// The difference of Day/ Ask him unto the Gallows led -// With morning in the sky – Emily Dickinson

The word Sumptuous makes me smile. It makes me think of gratitude and presence. Experiencing and cherishing. Lingering and savoring. Beautiful circles dancing. Bounteous tables feasting. Songs lifting and vibrating at frequencies only our souls can hear. Sumptuous is the space inside the present moment where stillness and knowing live.

Read more here.

Paying Attention

Thomas Paine, Common Sense

United States Supreme Court Decision — Presidential Immunity

A Description of Piaget’s Theory of Cognitive Development

Emma Lazarus, “The New Colossus”

Woodie Guthrie, This Land Is Your Land