To the Stoa, with Love

Part Deux

The last session has come and gone, again. The last two hours were a beautiful amalgamation of the practices that thrived there and the wonderful people that were a part of this that made it truly alive. It seems that many of us had found the Stoa at the most opportunistic time when the government decided to lock us all down. This did not spur a seeking for others because it had always been there. It only enhanced the yearning for it.

As Rebecca rolled us back in time, with each deep breath and rollback of the eyes, scenes flashed in my mind at each point that represented a date in the past. As we went farther back, there was an incredible feeling that I had actually done the work and the proof is that personal change reflected over time. At the last point in this controlled dream, I saw myself sitting in my old office at home worried about how I would be able to work and teach both of my kids at the same time. The details about it are vague, but I can remember the feeling that lingered for years, and still shows its face in certain times.

Many of us here have talked about it and we all know it well. It's the sense that you never will be able to find the others. There still is an element of that present in my real daily life. The sprinklings of interactions with my Stoa friends curb an increasing feeling that I am alone in this project of becoming. Even though my active participation has been rather minimal at best, my love for this place has only increased over time.

I tried to break out of my usual modus operandi in group settings to share what I really feel. To share without feeling held back based on a fear of judgment. I have learned an immense amount over the past three years. It seemed that it was something that found me, rather than me finding it. The types of conversations that I would have at the Stoa (which were mostly listening) started to manifest in real life. I was able to offer my well-thought-out perspective. Maybe even, in a few instances, philosophize. I tried my best to learn as much as possible from the people around me. This place and its emergent associations connected me to an inordinate amount of meaningful knowledge that I would not have found on my own. The names were less important to me than what was being put out into the world. So, even though my wanderings through these different avenues of modern philosophy were somewhat incoherent, jumbled, and messy, I am slowly coming out of that mire with a sense of direction.

That direction, sans destination, is a feeling that I have been talking about to a few close friends. I became aware of The North Star (made prevalent to me by Peter during a philosophical coaching session). Not the cosmological being in space, but the internal one. The one that pulls you toward what feels true, good, and beautiful.

Initially, I wanted the Stoa to be 'The Great Mitigator'. Meaning, in the areas of my life where I struggled, I wanted this to be an antidote to chaos. A light in the void. To some degree, it was able to function that way and I reaped many positive benefits, with additional prosperity in the area of friendships.

These friendships were, and still are, fostered in these micro time slots contained in visual rectangles. We only get to interact with them for a set period of time, then they vanish as if they were never there. This has been a facet of my life since the inception of this place. It is an interesting feeling to know a person, but to never have seen them in physical life. Internet friends. We hold a special place for them and hope to see them in a more visceral setting.

This is where the 'Stoa irl' will be able to provide that physically visceral setting. Not explicitly named from its previous form, but something else. One could say that 'this is where the rubber meets the road'. Our time spent online has not been wasted. Not in the least. We contemplated, talked, ranted, raved, argued, cried, and laughed. The effort was worth it. We were and are still missing that key piece to fully coalesce: physically gathering in a place to philosophize.

There is a line that keeps reverberating in my mind recently: 'Conversations will save the world'. I have expressed the meaning of this to a few close friends. It's really about a feeling I experience that is so equally euphoric and propulsive that I never want it to end. A really good conversation is one of the essences of life (my opinion), and this place, The Stoa, brought about that realization over time. I do not pretend to be the best at them, but when I am met with equal vigor to enhance the space of participation, everything else falls away. I do not worry about the past or the future, just the 'now'.

This particular transition feels right this time. It was not made to look like a grand exit, but it feels more like a soft phase shift. Better, a wise evolution. Almost a reach back to a time before we had our lives forcefully contained. This place was a respite during that time.

We lived purposefully at the knife's edge in those trying times, which was a testament to our will to find the beautiful things in the world. Apart from beauty, we searched for the things that seemed true to us and presented them to the people we began to trust. In that growth of trust, we were able to establish an amorphous cohort of beings who just wanted to thrive and vibe all while sharing our deepest thoughts.

This ending, if you call it that, is bittersweet and I am making all efforts to view this as a necessary transition. There will always be a part of me that longs for the particular space that helped me 'find the others' and find myself.

To the Steward: may you continue on this path, wherever it takes you, with love, selflessness, and wisdom.

To all of the other beautiful people I met at the Stoa: thank you for everything and I hope to see you in real life.

With Love,

Nathan