This is an age of information, and we gaze at the world through a window that fits in our pockets. Endless libraries of all the world’s knowledge are at our fingertips; we know what is happening to someone across geopolitical borders. It used to be that being “woke” meant being aware of systemic oppression, and, thanks to the internet, we have become more awakened to our shared humanity, despite (and even because of) cultural diversity. I’ve been listening to Terrence McKenna, the expert on psychedelics, who once talked about how the interconnectivity of the internet might eventually approximate the organic mystical experience achieved through various substances in shamanic practice.1
But, of course, those in power don’t want you to realize this oneness, that sense of collective consciousness, that sense of Kapwa. They want you to be compliant, and to do that they will insist on distinctions and differences. They will have to control all the streams of information so that your will is weakened and you become separated from other people. But also, there is a low but persistent call in the wind, reminding us that there is something more important than the slop shoveled into our feeds.
The global garden of the current zeitgeist welcomes the various blooming perspectives of decolonization and indigenization, which actually says a lot about what people around the world are experiencing:
In a time of increased polarity and isolation, we are looking for stronger and more authentic connections. We are looking for Kapwa.
In a time of racial bigotry, xenophobia, and jingoism, we are looking for good cultural representation in media and politics. We long for indigeneity.
In a time of too much disinformation and propaganda, we are returning to the stability of tradition and heritage. We revisit folklore and customs.
In a time of heightened violence, oppression, and echoes of colonial dominance, we are crying out for liberation. We learn Indigenous Knowledge and unlearn colonial mindsets.
If clunky, multisyllabic academic jargon puts you off, you don’t actually have to use them. I’m aware that these buzzwords can be used to signal a kind of “belongingness” to some kind of intellectual or moral elite—as though to say, “I use these words because I’m doing the work, and if we are allied, then you must use them too.” So much of these words—which are truly powerful when used appropriately—have become muddled and diluted by being overused. I genuinely believe that, if we are truly doing the work, then we should speak plainly, making these concepts and frameworks accessible to everyone, regardless of their level of education.
Historically, fascists tend to use simple words with emotionally resonant appeal to control people en masse. We can apply the same technique towards social justice and collective liberation. Too much jargon tends to scare away those who do not understand them, and so we all end up cramped in an ivory tower. At its core, terms like “decolonization” and “indigenization” are just academic terms that refer to living authentically through cultural intuition.
From the Archive
Here is a video from 2024, when I gave a workshop for social justice activists. I think this may be a good starting point for making sense of what “The Work” may mean for you:
Caring for the Inner Garden 🪴
Behind this work, I have my own little life. I enjoy working (sometimes to a dangerous degree), but yes, this work should only be a part of me. As “Carl,” I have other things going on, and I think it’s important, as a human being, to have your own sacred spaces, spaces of breath and spirit (kaginhawaan). But that doesn’t mean I absolutely need to “cut off” people, or enforce impenetrable boundaries. I’m still a person in the world, in a context, in a community, and I can’t be removed from that. The problem is that we talk so much about “collective care” and “building communities,” yet we are so quick to exclude and antagonize.
No single approach will work for everyone, and different people have their own particular needs, but this is not a call to detach—in fact, this is a call to collaborate with others. Life thrives with diversity. Unfortunately, we often confuse being different with being distinct. I know that we are trying to avoid unnecessarily heavy concepts, but there are two terms in sociology that may prove useful in this discussion: “competitive victimhood” and “horizontal hostility.” You can read up more on what these terms mean specifically (and I’ve linked them here), but what they basically mean is that two oppressed groups compete with each other because one believes they are more oppressed than the other, even though both of them are are suffering, usually by the same oppressor. What they lack, unfortunately, is a sense of shared identity, a sense of Kapwa.2
The thing is that much of what we’ve been taught about wellbeing is isolating. We’ve been conditioned to think that if we’re having difficulty then we’re defective machines. But we live in a society that’s obsessed with production and consumption. We neglect our bodies and how our environments affect us. I’ve developed a mental health program for subscribers of my Patreon, connecting it to embodiment and the Kapwa orientation. I hope it can be helpful for you too.
To be clear: I’m neither condoning nor condemning the use of hallucinogenic substances; I’m only sharing this statement as a fascinating thought. Psychedelics, such as “magic mushrooms,” is on the list of illegal substances classified by the Philippines’ Dangerous Drugs Board.
For a critical understanding of Kapwa, I would recommend this paper by Maharaj Desai, that focused on the Filipino/a-American experience.