An Ecosystem of Learning

Change is the end result of all true learning.

Leo Buscaglia

Learning rarely happens in seclusion which can be a barren environment. It thrives in a rich system made up of individuals, communities, and institutions, each playing a substantial role in nurturing growth. Learning is a verb (the process of gaining) whereas knowledge is a noun (the state of possessing).  Neither is attained to gain advantage over others rather they are part of our life’s mission. To learn is fundamentally to engage actively with the world, to think deeply and to allow curiosity and reflection to guide our actions.

Genuine learning strengthens resilience within ourselves, people, societies, and even safeguards the natural world. Just as diverse ecosystems are more capable of adapting and surviving, a rich culture of learning equips humanity to face uncertainty, fear, and change. It requires courage of us: the courage to confront what we do not know, to challenge old assumptions, and to connect local efforts with global concerns for both material and spiritual well-being.

The value of biodiversity is that it makes our ecosystems more resilient, which is a prerequisite for stable societies; its wanton destruction is akin to setting fire to our lifeboat. 

Johan Rockstrom

Learning also finds its highest purpose when it serves others. It should not result in arrogance or domination, but rather compassion, justice, and the betterment of the world. When knowledge is aligned with wisdom, it can inspire economies that protect the planet, communities that flourish, and personal lives filled with meaningful actions. Education, in this sense, is not about accumulating facts, but about igniting understanding and moral clarity.

Education is not the filling of a pot, but the lighting of a fire.

W.B. Yeats

Ultimately, learning is a lifelong journey. From birth to the final moments of life, we are shaped by our willingness to remain learners—open, adaptable, and humble. In times of rapid change, it is not those who cling tightly to what they already know who thrive, but those who continue to learn, unlearn, and grow. It is through this ongoing process that healthy transformation—within ourselves and within the world—becomes possible.

The purpose of learning should be the promotion of the welfare of the people…. True learning is that which is conducive to the well-being of the world, not to pride and self-conceit, or to tyranny, violence and pillage.

Bahá’u’lláh

Burnishing the Soul, polishing the wood

The conversation around the table ebbs and flows. From laughter to remembered incidents designed to entertain. All ages are represented from grandchildren to grandparents. The food is good. The room massive and ornately decorated as if from an earlier period. Candelabra, fluted glasses on intricate embroidered white runners contrast with the dark shiny walnut wooden table underneath. Sitting 16 people easily, the large dining room set gleams in its splendour. Around the huge room sits antique furniture polished carefully and positioned precisely. The walls are covered in old oil paintings of ancestors who made good. Each piece has a place in the memories of all here. This is a great grandmother's rosewood writing table, over here a display cabinet of delph displayed on six deep shelves behind glistening glass. Everywhere mementos remembered from childhood. Voices pointing out where it used to sit older houses. As the courses come to the table one senses how much care is lavished on these pieces of history. How polishing has to be undertaken regularly, pads positioned to absorb the unnecessary bangs from careless users. The wood of the huge table shines unprotected in its beauty, but one feels those who love it, wince with every glass or plate clicked down with not enough elegance and respect. 

I have nothing of value in my home, but I recall my mother's table in the dining room. She would cover it its wooden top with thick blankets of woollen protection. Designed to cushion all serving dishes it hugged the wood in tight protective cotton wool. This was but the first layer. Like astronaut's suits my mother believed in layers of defence. The second layer was a specially designed thick rubber tablecloth and then the third layer was the intricate pretty tablecloth purely for appearance. But even with this bullet-proofing nothing was placed on her table unless a solid wooden platter was anchored beneath it. On some some rare occasions she would peel back the layers of cover to show the immaculate table top free of every blemish and glorious as the day it was created decades before. Then gauging my impressed reaction she would tuck the tanned wood safely back into its bed. 

I recognise in some faces around a table my mother’s concern. Yes, you want to show the piece to its best. Allow it’s living dark flesh coloured wood to glow but in doing so you have opened it to rape and pillage. One miss-placed coffee cup could damage that perfection. These faces show both their pride in this epic table combined with a fearful expectancy of risk. Fathers must feel the same when their daughter emerges out of adolescence into fresh stunning beauty. Suddenly, they glow in the evidence of their bloodline’s perfections but alongside looms the fear of predators. Why does beauty always instil such a powerful mixture of awe and fear? As people drink other emotions surface. Being teetotal, I am shocked at how quickly alcohol removes the veils of civilisation. Conversation descends into politics, corruption and bare breasts? Alongside this curious diminishing of quality other issues make their disturbing appearance. 

Resentments over historical family slights, possessions that were inherited are searched for like lost children. How could she have ended up with my aunt’s glorious sideboard? As more alcohol flows unhappiness and resentment are stirred up. There is love here and you sense it but also so much pain and disappointment. Strangely, it is the younger generation who seem to demonstrate the most damage. They sit as if among museum pieces with which they have little affinity. Aware that eventually they too will become custodians of all this opulence but resentful of the weight of expectations. All these things seem like anchors to their future keeping them here, marooned among the family history. Glorious, expensive, filled with ancient memories of greatness and position but not of them. They do not seem content in this landscape. Their spirits flutter to escape and are not reassured by the quality around them but wearied by it all. There is a depressing unhappiness that leeches from all that alcohol seems to fuel. I suspect we all hug our pains away from prying eyes.   Alcohol loosens our grasp. All this pain and resentment circles the once happy group and one wishes like table tops people could be wrapped and protected from harm and hurt. Remain  unblemished and pristine. But I fear our purpose here is to learn from the ring-stains of life. To be tested by the careless and thoughtless and yet to use it all to find quality within. To polish and restore what may have been damaged and burnish our souls with worthwhile deeds.