A peculiar sort of learning

Every few months I watch this clip of Moshe Feldenkrais on the topic of human learning:

I am particularly fascinated with the following words (begins at minute 11:40):

“There are two Learnings, two. One learning is, you know, is academic learning. Academic learning. It means you can do it or not do it. You can be a physicist, or you can be a chemist; and you can be an archeologist; you can be a lawyer; and you can learn anthropology; you can learn any damn thing you want…And you can not do it, and you can postpone it. If you fall in love, you say, who wants to learn medicine? I have more important things to do. I want to raise a family…. Academic learning can be done, not done at will. Can be postponed or taken early. As you wish.”

Feldenkrais contrasts this academic learning with the earlier phase of learning, what he calls learning for becoming a person:

“In the first few years of our life we become what we are and we remain like that whether we…study medicine or thermo-dynamics. See, we will remain what we are as a person. And this is formed in the first few years of our life and it’s done through learning. So it’s a peculiar sort of learning of extreme importance.”

I have always been taken with these striking words. In one short speech, Feldenkrais turns our notion of education on its head. Although in our society we tend to privilege the later, academic phases of learning, here Feldenkrais makes clear that the most critical phase of learning is the one that takes place in the first months and years of life. Everything else is icing on the cake.

What to do with this insight? First, it reminds us that we must prioritize the wellbeing of children and families in our own lives and in our broader social and political landscape. Second, it means that the those involved in childcare are engaging in a significant and sacred task: the task of providing children with the optimal conditions for development. In this first phase of life we acquire the patterns of personhood that will organize our lifelong behavior.

It can be overwhelming to recognize the significance of early learning. As a care giver, it can also be hard to sustain inspiration in the face its non-stop demands.

What might religion have to offer us as we face these challenges? Where might be find the tools with which to infuse- or shall we say, restore- a sacred register to this act of provision? How might we recover its sacred aura, and grant it a more central place in our social and religious perspectives? I recently attended a zoom class with Reb Mimi Feigleson. It was the 9th of Av, a sad, difficult day of collective Jewish mourning. Before beginning her talk, Reb Mimi paused and appealed to God with a soft, initial address. She petitioned God with a few names, one of which was the Aramaic term, “Upper Mother,” “Ima Eela’a.” This summoning of the divine mother resonated with me; I can only speculate as to why. Perhaps it was the use of Aramaic, a language that sits adjacent to the holy tongue; perhaps it was its kabbalistic overtones (it is drawn from the Zohar); perhaps it was its sonic, incantational quality (so many vowels!), or its familiarity (the Aramaic “ima” would become the common Hebrew word for mother, rather than the Biblical Hebrew term “Em”). Perhaps it was the sad, despairing state in which we found ourselves that day, weighed down with such longing for maternal presence and comfort. Reb Mimi summoned the Upper Mother and She came alive for me.

So, a prayer for us today: may we raise up the notion of mothering- that is, the act of providing a steady and good environment for children- as a sacred and divine act. May the maternal divine, Ima Eela’a, guide us through this very difficult time. Amen.

I discuss this and other topics in my new book. I hope that you will have a look. And, please join me for my upcoming book events in Berkeley, San Franisco, and beyond!

Last Update: 7 months ago by Deena Aranoff