[excerpted from, 9 Keys to Embracing Change: Personal Growth ©2023]

Mindfulness is perhaps one of our greatest tools for embracing change.

Here we look at mindfulness meditation in particular, for reasons which will soon become apparent. But first: a closer look at mindfulness itself.

Trait, state, and practice – mindfulness is all of these. Extracted from Buddhism for secular applications some few decades ago, mindfulness has evidenced a broad spectrum of benefits to physical as well as mental health. We can be mindful as a character trait, in a particular situation, or in a practice such as meditation, breathing exercises, walking, eating, interacting with others, and our overall approach to life. All are of benefit.

So what is mindfulness?

In English, we often say someone should be mindful of something – meaning, to practice caution or simply to pay attention. When we speak of this practice, it surely relates to both, especially the latter. Mindfulness in Buddhism is considered a form of mental training; it involves a keen focus of attention, an awareness of detail, a reduction in mind-wandering, and a present-moment orientation. Another aspect is in detachment from emotion, not in an unfeeling way but quite the opposite; mindfulness allows us to notice our emotions in detail, especially what’s beneath or motivating them, then to simply wish them on their way and let go of them. Focus, notice, then detach. It may sound difficult. It gets easier with practice.

When was the last time that you sat and did absolutely nothing? How often do you sit quietly and let your mind deeply relax, yourself in a state of pure contentment – even bliss? (I often observe my cat in such a state, and think her species must be the most mindful of all.) Mindfulness involves a profound stillness and a focus on our breathing; this doesn’t have to be skilled meditation per se, but is meditative nonetheless. We sit quietly with distractions minimized and a singular focus on our slow, even inhale, exhale, for a period of 10 minutes or so, refocusing as needed and letting thoughts and feelings drift away.

How does such a practice help us in times of change?

First, the present-moment orientation is very useful; even in the most stressful transitions, each present moment is most often tolerable, even okay. The stress is often in looking back to the past we’ve lost or forward to the future that isn’t yet here and feels unknowable, while this present moment – just this very moment – is usually quite manageable. We learn, then, to approach life one present moment at a time, rather than letting our focus spin into all those projections of what the future might be like, or into the past and loss, and everything then gets broken down into manageable parts.

Secondly: stillness. When life seems chaotic, we need moments of stillness above all else. Yet in the chaos, it can be very difficult to still our minds. If we have a regular practice of mindfulness meditation, a daily practice in times of stability, then when periods of change come, we can more easily continue that practice.

Thirdly: emotional detachment. A form of emotional intelligence, we aren’t suppressing our feelings but looking at them, determining what’s motivating them if we can, and then letting go of them. Much of the challenge in times of change is in the emotional realm. We can often facilitate the transition itself, but the emotion of it – the stress, uncertainty, confusion, pain and loss, all add up to our not thinking clearly and not handling the transition objectively, much less actually using it as a growth opportunity. The more we’ve learned how to detach from our emotions, so that we experience them but they don’t control us, the better we’ll function when change comes.

All of these – present-moment orientation, inner stillness, emotional intelligence – are also enormously helpful when we undergo deliberate processes of personal development. As we outline a plan and take those next steps, toward who we want to become, mindfulness will provide a great deal of support.

When I’m practicing mindfulness throughout my day, or in a given situation, I notice everything (or as much as possible); my focus is keenly tuned, I am not distracted, and I take in the richness of detail that surrounds me. I see that baby smiling up at his mother across from me on the metro. I notice how the sunbeams are dancing across my desk, or the shadows on the ceiling look like so much basket-weaving. I take note of the stranger who says “good morning” to me, of the unsteady grandmother who may need my help, of that little street cat looking up at me in anticipation, of the flowers in bloom. My day, in all its moments, is very rich and full, and time slows – I have become time-affluent.

In mindfulness meditation, we sit comfortably in a quiet space, distractions minimized. We begin by focusing on our breathing, slowly in, slowly out, and our breath becomes our friend. We are utterly in the present moment as a result of this singular focus, and when we note that our mind has wandered and we’ve become distracted, we simply smile, and gently focus once more on our breathing. We haven’t failed, aren’t incapable of meditating; it’s only our monkey mind, easily distracted, and just as easily refocused.

If at some point we find ourselves feeling sad, or angry, or anxious, we take note for a moment, asking that feeling what’s underneath or behind it; if we achieve new insight, we note that – oh, I’m feeling a little sad because an image of my long-gone grandmother just crossed my thoughts – ah, that anger or irritation is because a car horn is blasting outside of my window, and I feel the person is being inconsiderate of others – hmm, that bit of anxiety is because I’ve an exam tomorrow – and then we smile softly and let that emotion drift away again, as if a cloud, and return to a focus on our breathing.

After a while, it’s time; the body simply knows, and we take a slow, deep, cleansing breath, and return to an alert state of mind. Then: we reflect, whether in writing, by audio recording, or by discussing with another person, somehow externalizing our meditative experience, exploring insights gained.

Just 10 minutes a day of mindfulness meditation practice has been shown to be effective for a wide array of health benefits, and to improve our concentration, memory, tranquility, and resilience.

Mental training. Stillness. Emotional intelligence. Mindfulness.

[excerpted from, Intercultural Competence ©2023]

Our Big Question: What are the primary models and frameworks of intercultural competence?

There are several significant models by which intercultural competence is understood, and frameworks that assist in cross-cultural understanding. We begin with the models: first, UNESCO’s Intercultural Competence Tree.

The tree has two primary roots: culture, trailing out from which are the smaller roots of identity, values, attitudes, and beliefs; and communication, the lesser roots of which include language, dialogue, and nonverbal behavior. The trunk of our tree consists of 3 factors: cultural diversity, intercultural dialogue, and human rights.

Some have questioned whether the very concept of ‘human rights’ is a ‘western’ construct, and if it applies to nonwestern cultures (i.e., most of the world); while surely well-intentioned, it’s based on individualism, and the rights of each individual without a parallel focus on the collective good, which doesn’t always suit collectivist cultures. (Again: very nearly all of the world.) While concepts of ethnics and morals can also vary among cultures, broad principles of human decency – such as not harming or enslaving another – are more universally applied.

Continuing with our tree model of intercultural competence, we reach the branches, which represent operational steps: clarifying, teaching, promoting, supporting, and enacting. Finally, we have the leaves, or outward manifestations of said competence: intercultural responsibility, intercultural literacy, resilience, cultural shifting, intercultural citizenship, conviviality, reflexivity, creativity, liquidity, contextualization cues, transvaluation, ubuntu [African philosophy of individual identity through social context], semantic availability, warm ideas, skills, uchi-soto [Japanese philosophy of in-/out-groups with responsibility of insiders to honor outsiders], multilingualism, disposition, emotions, knowledge, translation, and intercultural communicative competence, with several leaves on the diagram left blank for further development.

Two other models are widely applied. First, we have Bennett’s Developmental Model of Intercultural Sensitivity, by which one moves through 3 stages of ethnocentrism (one’s own culture as central to reality) followed by 3 more of ethnorelativism (one’s own and other cultures as relative to context). The first 2 stages are cognitive, or conceptual: denial (unaware of cultural biases), followed by defense (aware but refuses to acknowledge); the final ethnocentric stage, minimization (cultural bias, and differences, aren’t important), is now affective, or emotional. Only after we process this can we move into a state of ethnorelativism, the first stage of which is also affective: acceptance that one has cultural biases and the understanding that this serves as a ‘norm’ by which one assesses other cultures. The final 2 stages of development are behavioral: adaptation, in which we begin to broaden our perspective, and integration of these changes. Only now are we competent, seeing all cultures as equally valid, with no universal norm.

And, we have Deardorff’s spiral-shaped model of intercultural competence learning. We acquire cultural knowledge and skills in communication as well as conflict management; we develop attitudes of valuing cultural diversity and tolerating ambiguity. This acquisition of knowledge, skills, and attitudes has both external and internal outcomes: external in constructive interaction, when we’re able to avoid violating cultural rules or can achieve our valued objectives such as effective cross-cultural negotiations; internal, in intercultural reflection as we shift and relativize our frame of reference (see again Bennett’s model) and are better able to empathize as we discover commonalities.

The spiral shape of the Deardorf model is especially meaningful to me. I can attest, in 20 years of intercultural engagement abroad with another 20 before in cultural study and practice, that the learning, changing, and adaptation is cyclic. I continue to progress in my development of competence (spirals move forward, after all) – and, the acquisition of even more knowledge and improved skills is ongoing.

We now move on to cross-cultural frameworks. As already mentioned, cultures are identified as either more individualistic in orientation or more collectivistic, and this appears in many a framework; this alone tells us much about any culture, though these and all features are on a continuum and not absolute. When I first left the US for example, one of the world’s most individualistic societies (and New York City, my home, especially so), I first lived in South Korea – my choice in part precisely because Korean culture, one of the most ethnically homogenous among developed nations, is also one of the world’s most collectivist based on its strong adherence to Confucian principles.

In one of the most well known cultural frameworks, that of Geert Hofstede whose definition of culture was included in our first chapter, this individualist-collectivist concept is included among 6 cultural dimensions. One of self- vs group-identification, it’s further delineated as based on achievements and rights (individualistic) vs loyalty and relationships (collectivist). Power distance, the next dimension, describes a culture as more hierarchical or egalitarian; uncertainty avoidance or risk aversion, whether a culture is more tolerant of change with fewer rules, or maintains strict rules and regulations to minimize the unknown.

Masculinity vs femininity, a valuing based on traditional qualities of gender, holds that the more masculine culture values assertiveness, courage, strength, and competition, while the more feminine places value on cooperation, nurturing, and quality of life. (It’s worth noting that Hofstede first developed his model in the 1960s-70s, when ideas about gender roles were just beginning to change; even so, these identifiers remain globally applicable today.) Short- vs long-term orientation speaks to a valuing of quick results, respect for tradition, and unrestrained spending often in response to some form of pressure, vs delayed gratification and a value of persistence, thrift, saving, long-term growth, and capacity for adaptation. These 5 dimensions made up his original framework, but a 6^th such was later added: indulgence vs restraint, whether a society is more like to indulge in gratification, materialism, and leisure, or to suppress or regulate gratification through social norms.

We turn now to the Lewis Model of Culture Types, in the form of a triangle: 3 intersecting axes, or continuums. At their poles, forming the triangle’s points, the 3 identifiers: linear-active, reactive, and multi-active. Linear-active cultures tend to be emotionally more reserved and less demonstrative, factually based, decisive, and planners who work step-by-step toward some future goal; examples include Germany with US and UK just a degree away – the former a step toward multi-active, the latter just a hair toward reactive.

Reactive cultures tend toward the courteous, amiable, accommodating, and compromising; they tend not to plan ahead or work methodically, but rather work hard in a burst when the need arises. East Asian cultures tend to fall into this category, with social harmony valued well above individual expression, and preservation of the dignity of both self and other paramount. Korea, where I lived for a number of years, is identified in this framework as reactive. When organizing an international congress there, those executive committee members from more linear-active countries expressed concern that preparations seemed to be well behind schedule; I assured them that this was the Korean way, that closer to the time of the event local committees would begin working intensively around the clock, and that it would be spectacular – which it was.

In the multi-active category, we find many Latin countries, among others. A blend of proactive and reactive, where everything seems to happen at once, people in such societies tend to be quick to emotion and demonstrative, loquacious, and impulsive. In addition to Latin America (at the pole) and southern Europe as well as Sub-Saharan Africa, Russia is located on the linear- / multi-active continuum close to the latter; Türkiye, meanwhile, is also close to multi-active but on the axis with reactive countries instead.

It’s clear that this framework is identifying very broad-stroke cultural features; in the complete scheme, more subtlety can be found as scatterplot diagrams indicate nuances. Overall, it’s a very useful tool indeed.

A 3^rd framework is the Inglehart–Welzel Cultural Map, its 2023 version recently released. This scatterplot diagram of cultures has traditional values at the low end of its vertical / y-axis and secular-rational at the high; on the horizontal / x-axis, survival is at the left extreme with self-expression as its opposite. We must note: the x-axis largely corresponds to economic status or wealth (survival mode vs ability of self-expression), while the y-axis equates tradition with religiosity and modernity with secularism; we may argue that ‘self-expression’ simply does not correspond to collectivist societies. Countries are clustered per African-Islamic, Latin America, Catholic Europe, Protestant Europe, Orthodox Europe, Confucian, West & South Asian, and English-speaking [the latter referred to as ‘Anglo’ in other schemes that we’ll see].

The African-Islamic cluster includes Sub-Saharan African countries and the MENA configuration of Middle Eastern and North African countries which share a religion and are often grouped together; with few exceptions, it falls at the low end of both axes. At the high end of both, we find Protestant Europe and English-speaking countries, with Catholic Europe slightly lower on both axes; the Confucian cluster of East Asia, primarily Northeast, tends to locate high for secular-rational values but low for self-expression. Interestingly, the US is situated at the low end of both axes relative to others in the English-speaking cluster, still above the median on both but not considerably so, considered one of the more conservative and religious/traditional of the English-speaking western world.

The Trompenaars & Hampden-Meyer 7 Dimensions of Culture continuums include 5 based on human relationships: individualism vs collectivism as well as universalism (consistency / standardization) vs particularism (flexibility / customization), neutral (reserved) vs affective (emotionally demonstrative), achievement (one’s actions) vs ascription (one’s identity), and specific (details) vs diffuse (holistic); the final two focus on time orientation: sequential (in order) vs synchronic (at the same time), and context orientation: internal (take control) vs external (go with the flow).

Our final two frameworks are used widely in intercultural competence for business. The GLOBE [Global Leadership and Organizational Behavior Effectiveness] model of Robert House includes Hofstede’s continuums of power distance and uncertainty avoidance, future orientation (Hofstede: short- vs long-term), and collectivism further divided into in-group (society) and institutional (social welfare); others are gender egalitarianism, assertiveness, and both humane and performance orientations. We’ll see this framework again, along with a few others above, in our ‘By Region’ chapters later on.

Finally, we have Meyer’s Culture Map, the most recent of these frameworks, which includes 10 areas (8 original and 2 added later). These are: communication (explicit vs implicit), evaluation (direct vs indirect), persuasion (deductive vs inductive), leadership (egalitarian vs hierarchical), decision-making (consensual vs top-down), trust (task- vs relationship-based), discord (confrontational vs avoidance), time management (structured vs flexible), appearance (formal vs casual), and space (proximity vs distance).

As you can see, we begin to understand the world’s cultures on these bases, and for a more nuanced view, we use several such systems and look at where a particular culture – and often, a region – falls on the spectrum. One framework alone may not be sufficient, but if we look at a few, we begin to gain understanding.

Exercises:

Discussion or Contemplation: Consider the frameworks presented, and how each resonates for you. Which of them is the most appealing?

Writing or Recording: Which model appeals to me the most, and why? What next steps can I take to learn more, and gain the skills to apply it to my cross-cultural studies?

Further Reading: Developmental Model of Intercultural Sensitivity https://organizingengagement.org/models/developmental-model-of-intercultural-sensitivity/

[excerpted from, Developing a ‘Global Mind’, ©2023]

Our Big Question(s): In what ways do I view my culture as superior to others, or the norm? What stereotypes do I have about other cultures?

So, now we understand what ‘global mind’ (or global mindedness, perspective, orientation, or consciousness) means, and what it takes to consider oneself a citizen of the world. We’re excited to develop our global perspective and to improve our understanding of the world and its peoples. But what can we expect to get in our way?

Internally, we all have two fundamental barriers: ethnocentrism and stereotypes.

Two women are depicted in a drawing: one wearing a bikini and sunglasses, the other in a burka. The thought bubble over the bikini-clad woman, regarding the other, is: Only her eyes are uncovered; she must be from a repressive, male-dominated society. Meanwhile, the parallel thought bubble over the burka-clad woman is: Only her eyes are covered; she must be from a repressive, male-dominated society.

A speaker addresses a table of 4 regional representatives: What’s your opinion on food shortages in the rest of the world? Their replies: (Africa) What’s ‘food’? (Europe) What’s ‘shortages’? (America) What’s ‘rest of the world’? (Arabia) What’s ‘opinion’?

Both of these depict ethnocentrism. (The latter is also clearly stereotypical.)

Ethnocentrism refers to a central focal point based on one’s ethnicity – ancestry, heritage, and/or cultural background. It’s a natural tendency to view the world through one’s own cultural filters; often, it includes an unconscious bias that one’s own culture or group is superior to others.

When a traveler or foreign resident complains about another culture in terms such as, “Why do they do X the wrong way?” or, “Don’t they understand that it would be better like this?” or, “Isn’t this strange [funny, confusing]?” – they’re expressing their ethnocentrism. Rather than seeing the custom in question simply as the other culture’s way, it’s automatically viewed in comparison to the speaker’s native culture as the norm or standard.

This is natural as most of us grow up within one dominant cultural matrix (though complex, as already mentioned – and more on this in our next chapter), our worldview deeply embedded from earliest childhood so that we aren’t aware of our assumptions that it’s the norm. In reality, it’s simply one view of many, and as we develop our thinking, we move through various stages toward true understanding. Even so, throughout our lives as global citizens, we must continually check ourselves against our ethnocentrism – our natural lens.

The problem with an ethnocentric view, of course, is that we’re seeing the world through a narrow lens of which we’re largely unaware. It prevents us from seeing other perspectives, much less respecting them, and stunts our ability to be empathetic. It also contributes to many a false assumption and misunderstanding – for not only do we think that those behaviors and viewpoints in contradiction to what we presume to be the norm must be wrong, or at the least strange; we also wrongly assume that we understand the actions and thoughts of others when we are simply incorrect, based on our unconscious biases.

Naturally, this can also create conflict (I’m right / you’re wrong), and leads to stereotypes (everyone/all are this or aren’t that). It can be used to promote ‘in-groups’, a tribal ‘us vs them’ mentality –and tribalism or group identity is very much on the rise throughout the world, as has been well documented. This leads to very dangerous thinking and in its extreme forms manifests as racism, colonialism, conflict and war, and even ethnic cleansing or genocide. Surely, ethnocentrism is the very opposite of global mindedness, though as our natural state – we are the product of a culture or cultures, after all, and all throughout childhood we’re taught how to be a member of our society – what to think, how to act, what to believe, and how to interpret the actions of others – and are also eager to belong, to fit in. By the time we reach adulthood, then, we’re only minimally aware of our acculturation and of these deeply embedded filters or biases. Too, it can be very seductive, empowering even, to believe that we’re right, and superior to others.

We can’t eradicate our ethnocentrism entirely. We’ve had 20 years of training before we reach adulthood, after all, and most of us continue to live in the society in which we’re expected to understand cultural cues and social behaviors and interaction. Anyone who’s neurodivergent, finding it difficult to ‘read’ others or follow the expected behaviors of society, knows how painful and isolating this can be. What we can do, in our quest for global citizenship, is to work toward a ‘flexible ethnocentrism’ – an ever-increasing awareness of our cultural biases, and the objectivity of setting those aside when in the presence of cultures other than our own. When in Rome, after all….

The second barrier to our development of global mindedness, and equally narrow in perspective, is that of stereotypes. You may feel that you haven’t any, or few, that you’re very open-minded, empathetic, and accepting of others. I hope that’s true. You still have stereotypes. We all do. Many of them, in fact, are unconscious. Many of them are likely to be based in just a grain of truth, which is also what makes them so difficult to transform.

Do you feel that the French (or at least Parisians) are arrogant? That Germans are inflexible and unemotional? That the Chinese are dishonest, or obsessed with making money? That those from US are superficial and materialistic? That all Africans are poor and uneducated? That Mexican men are all macho, or gangsters? That Russians, or Turks, are aggressive? That Arabs are conservative and intolerant?

Did any of that make you cringe?

What about: women/men are __, teenagers/elders are __, rich/poor people are __, (and don’t get me started on religions) –?

Stereotypes are generalizations. There may be an element of truth to many of them; surely some members of each group could fit that description. The typing is in the assumption that all members share a particular characteristic – even when it’s a positive one. (Not all Asians are good at math and science, for example. And no one, ever, likes for assumptions about them to be made based on their group identity.) The problem lies in that generalization; it’s an oversimplification, a mental shortcut or heuristic, weak thinking at best. And as stereotypes are absolutes, they’re always wrong. No group is 100% anything. Ever.

The problem is not only in the assumption, and inherent misunderstandings; stereotypes quickly lead to prejudice and on to discrimination. The problem is also that they’re often unconscious. In our quest to become global citizens, then, to develop a global perspective and engagement with the world, we must continually check ourselves for any unconscious beliefs and biases we may have. Look for those red flags in your thinking: everyone/all, always/never, and other indications of generalizations or absolutes. I often find my own hidden in languages; as I’m studying a particular language (13 of them, currently), I sometimes have a certain reaction to its sounds, structure, or vocabulary, and on further examination, cultural assumptions may appear. Sometimes, our stereotypical beliefs only become apparent when we encounter people from a particular group – cultural, political, religious, gender, age, or other – and we experience a visceral reaction as our formerly unconscious beliefs begin bubbling up to the surface.

So how can we overcome our biases?

We must begin by making a concerted, ongoing effort to avoid assumptions and especially absolutes – in all aspects of life. Anytime we take that mental shortcut and assume we know or understand something, we must ask ourselves: do I really know this? Am I certain? Could I be mistaken, or misinterpreting? This type of reflection will greatly reduce the amount of our assumption. And when we recognize those absolutist red flags in our thinking or speech, when we’re saying I/they always/never, or everyone or all, we must stop and ask ourselves: is this true? Can I say with certainty that this is 100% true? If not: change it.

When I’m in a circumstance with people from a culture other than my own, for example, even if I know a great deal about that culture, after our encounter has ended I must reflect: did I interpret that situation correctly? Did I truly understand what they said, and meant, and the meaning of their actions, expressions, body language? This isn’t self-doubt so much as simple reflective exercise – which always takes one’s thinking to a deeper and more comprehensive level.

Knowledge is always helpful, and for the budding global citizen, knowledge about other cultures, world systems, and global challenges especially so. The more we know, the less we assume – and the more we realize that there are few absolutes in this world. Even so, no matter how much knowledge we may have about a certain situation, we do well to reflect and consider alternate explanations. (This applies to those encounters within our own culture, too.)

As well, we must work to avoid judgments about what’s right or wrong. This isn’t moral relativism – I’m not saying there’s no such thing as ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ – only that ‘different’ is not equivalent to ‘wrong’. This is ethnocentrism in action, when we find ourselves wondering, why do ‘they’ do this in such a strange, or wrong, way? We’re only unconsciously comparing the situation to our own cultural programming, which we inherently assume (there we go again) to be the norm.

Above all, of course, though not always easy, is to remain respectful. When we don’t understand the other person’s thinking or action, when a custom or behavior seems strange, we do well to ask questions of them in a respectful manner. In addition to reflecting on our own interpretation, asking questions – I think this is what you mean – or am I wrong? Am I understanding this situation correctly? Could you tell me more about that, or explain this to me? I’m genuinely trying to understand – will go a very long way to actual understanding.

Let’s talk now about cultural relativism, and cultural pluralism.

Cultural relativism presumes that there are no universal ethical truths, but that ethics are relative to each culture. What one culture sees as right behavior or value may be the opposite view in another, and no such values or ethics exist that are the same for all. Rather, the customs of each society are all that truly exist, and each decides what’s right for them. When we approve or disapprove of another culture’s values, beliefs, or customs, we’re doing so on the basis that there’s some mythical universal truth.

Naturally, there’s a grain of truth to this. But what about a culture that feels it’s acceptable for a husband to beat his wife? Or for boys to be educated but not girls? Or for people of a lower socioeconomic class to be treated as unclean or non-human, or even enslaved? And while many a society has engaged in conflict, mass murder, even genocide, isn’t it a universally accepted value that murder of one human by another is wrong? But – what about soldiers engaged in war? A Buddhist society might think that eating animal flesh, or even killing a mosquito, is morally wrong; a secular culture or one based on another religion may have no such compunction. We could go on and on. While we can’t perhaps state outright that there’s a universal sense of right and wrong, and while there are many shades of gray across cultures, there are some generally accepted principles of basic human rights.

Cultural pluralism, then, takes this a step further. In this framework, all cultures are equally worthy of respect and no culture has the right to judge another. Each stands on its own, without comparison to others. We attempt to understand a society’s values, attitudes, and behaviors from their perspective rather than that of our own culture. However, not all cultural features are equal, and some, based on human rights, are universally or at least broadly considered to be unacceptable. Low treatment of any whole group, for example, whether based on race, gender, class, economics, or other, is generally seen as discriminatory; violence in any form is most likely to be rejected.

Our guidelines, then, as we develop our global mindedness: respect diversity in all its forms, while seeking common ground with others, and respect the significance of those cultural differences – which comes with increased knowledge. To get beyond our stereotypes, we must first deconstruct them – take them apart and examine them closely – then discuss them with others, and educate ourselves further, so that we might look beyond our stereotypes – and simply see human beings.

The very survival of our global community requires that we continually move away from ethnocentrism and stereotyping, and toward intercultural sensitivity and understanding.

.

Exercises:

Discussion or Contemplation: How ethnocentric am I? Or, how open to other cultures and their customs am I?

Writing or Recording: What are some of my stereotypes about other cultures, that I’d like to change?

Further Reading: How to Overcome Ethnocentrism and Stereotyping https://ronakb1.wordpress.com/2013/05/05/how-to-overcome-ethnocentrism-and-stereotyping/

[excerpted from, 9 Keys to Ritual for Self-Care: Transpersonal Psychology ©2023]

Our second key: the use of ritual for integration, to better achieve a state of wholeness.

Modern life tends to fragment us. We feel like a very different person from one circumstance to the next, and while the core self may feel consistent, we can also easily feel scattered.

A common experience of the shaman in training, also a universal motif in the world’s mythologies, is one from fragmentation to wholeness. A god gets torn into pieces and must be put back together again, piece by piece – or is killed, begins to decompose, and is then resurrected. The neophyte shaman in trance finds him/herself shattered and made whole again – while the master shaman goes into trance to travel to the spirit world, find the part of a client’s soul that has gone missing, return to consciousness and reintegrate that missing part into the person’s whole being.

We all know this feeling. We can use ritual to put the pieces together. A sort of ‘defragmentation’ if you will, just as our computers do – and as some theorists propose our brains do, as we dream.

This is a means to bodymindspirit, if you will – integration of our physical, mental, and spiritual selves. Or, an integration of our animus / anima, as Jungian theory identifies the masculine and feminine characteristics in the psyche of each individual. Or, we can use this for shadow work – another Jungian concept, referring to all those parts of ourselves that either we, or others, or society told us were unacceptable, so we hid them away in the dark recesses of our psyche – and can retrieve them, and integrate them once more into our whole, complex being.

In 1970s US, when I was still a child, second-wave feminism was on the rise (the suffragettes a century prior, fighting for women’s right to vote, having been the first), and began with ‘consciousness-raising circles’. Women at that time largely didn’t understand that they were subordinate, that a part of their large and beautiful and complex selves had been sublimated as ‘unacceptable’ – and the first step was to find that missing part again, to identify what was missing. Only then could they begin to reclaim those parts of themselves, and then work toward their wholeness both as individuals and within society.

Neriya-Ben Shahar (2019) describes Jewish Orthodox women creating new ritual for themselves, to explore and develop their spirituality in ways their religion doesn’t readily allow. Sauca (2022), meanwhile, explores ‘blood rites’ in which women create rituals related to and reclaiming their menses, in a direct 3-day communion with nature and according to transpersonal principles.

We can absolutely change the self through the use of ritual. Indeed, this may be one of the most obvious applications. Kress and Kerr (2019) report the use of ritual within transpersonal psychotherapy – what they term, ‘psycheritual’ – and ritual can surely, and perhaps even more easily, be applied for personal use.

I myself have used ritual for this purpose countless times over the past 4 decades. In one such, many years ago, I was reconciling a good deal of shadow material, created by the restrictions of my fundamentalist religious childhood, with the liberal, secular woman I had become –many fragments to be found and reintegrated. I created a series of rituals (with 2 decades of suppression behind me, I knew one would not be sufficient), in which, one by one, I reclaimed these characteristics of my personality; in trance, I envisioned myself in an ancient temple surrounded by nature (wounds caused by religion are best healed in an imagined neutral and nurturing religious setting, I’ve found, and/or one in the natural world), and in each ritual I took in my hands the formerly rejected aspect of self, gazed at it with ever-increasing love, then held it to my chest until it was absorbed into my being.

To this day, I continue shadow reintegration, alongside ancestor veneration (more on that in a later key), at the dark moon each month. We can also time our rituals to natural phases – seasons, moon phases, high or low tides if near the sea, natural phenomena such as a rainstorm, eclipse, or meteor shower – or simply time of day: morning for beginning something new, evening for letting go, and so on. There is no script (don’t believe those who say otherwise); personal rituals are meant to be exactly that, though not a random and careless ‘anything goes’ but well thought out and carefully chosen for one’s specific objectives.

This is you, your unique self, your conscious and unconscious mind in ongoing dialogue.

From fragmentation to wholeness.

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Exercises:

In all such, we begin with a process to gain clarity, before designing our ritual. In this case, use journaling, meditating, mind-mapping, or similar to ask yourself: in what way(s) is wholeness or integration needed? Do I feel scattered? Too many identities, roles? Is a part of me missing? Since when, and because of what? Do I want to reintegrate this characteristic, and if so, how would that play out in my daily life?

Design your ritual, prepare as needed, imagine it from start to finish – and afterward, reflect in some way and integrate into your daily life – as always. Consider what method you will use to alter your state of consciousness: breathing, music or other sound, meditation, or–?

Develop some form of visualization or guided imagery; if the latter, write your script (or find one you like and modify it to suit you), then record it in your own voice. Give a minute of silent lead time, which in the ritual will allow you to start the recording, then settle into an altered state before the speaking begins.

One option: imagine yourself as a puzzle, putting pieces back together one by one, to completion. Or, if soul loss and retrieval feels appropriate: go into your quiet mind, seek what’s missing until you find it, then envision a process of reintegration – typically, of absorbing this ‘missing part’ back into your body. This is shadow work; another type is that of discovering things we’ve hidden from ourselves, qualities that perhaps we don’t like to admit having – maybe we aren’t always honest, for example – and in ritual, to take this out of hiding, find some way to imagine its transformation, and let it then disintegrate and float away from you. Our ultimate goal is not to reintegrate all shadow material, but that nothing is hidden from the conscious mind.

Integration and reflection after the ritual are always necessary, but especially essential for this ‘wholeness’ or reintegration work. Make sense of what you’ve just experienced, looking for insight; and, explore how you can further support this reintegration in your daily life.

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References:

Kress R and Kerr M (2019). Changing the Sense of Self Through Ritual. Integral Transpersonal Journal 12:12, 68-105.

Neriya-Ben Shahar R (2019). “We Need to Worship Outside of Conventional Boundaries”: Jewish Orthodox Women Negotiating Time, Space and Halachic Hegemony Through New Ritual. Contemporary Jewry 39, 473-495. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12397-019-09295-1

Sauca ML (2022). Blood rites – reconnecting with the innate feminine: An interpretive phenomenological analysis. Consciousness, Spirituality & Transpersonal Psychology 3, 128-143. https://doi.org/10.53074/cstp.2022.41