A Non-Conclusion

11:00-11:15 Introduction to the project
1. What is the project about?
•    How do we respond to the crisis condition we’re in, as well as the events and developments it is manifesting through?
•    How do we approach these events experientially rather than mentally and rationally?
•    What kind of relations and ways of being do we want to initiate?
2. Who is involved and how?
3. What have we done this summer?
4. Where are we at the moment and where are we heading?
5. What are the main themes we’ve been working with so far?
•    Human awareness and perception – what are its limits and how can we move them?
•    Hypersensitivity, responsiveness – what happens to us if we sensitise ourselves to what happens around us instead of blocking it or alienating ourselves from it? How do we sense into the effects we create with our own actions?
•    (Inter)connectivity – what happens to others also happens to us (it’s the same thing)
•    How do we live together with other beings and things?
•    Affect and materiality – how do we encounter and respond to things we don’t know? How do we go beyond functionality and user-value? How do we meet things “as they are”, from their point of view rather than ours? > post-humanism
•    Alienation, otherness and foreignness
•    Weakness and non-colonization
•    Hospitality

11:15-11:40 Hospitality
1. You can begin from where you are at the moment.
2. Notice the degree to which you are a guest, or a visitor, in this space. The foreignness may manifest in various ways – notice what they are.
3. Move around the space as a guest. How do you feel? How does your gaze move, how do things and people appear to you?
4. You can look for a spot where you feel the most foreign, or where your guest-ness manifests itself strongly.
5. Gradually, begin to shift you orientation from that of a guest to that of a host, or a native – one who is at home in this space and identifies it as his or her own. Can you find a way to welcome or invite yourself into this space?
6. See how your way of moving or seeing things and beings changes. Where and how do you wish to be? How do you relate to others if no-one here is a guest?
7. Look at other people. Is there something in them that feels foreign to you? Is there a way for you to welcome it into the space?
8. Now you can share your experiences and observations.

11:40-12:00 Discussion
Why do we work on hospitality?
1. Crisis. There are many things happening around us, and to us, at the moment, which feel unwelcome or foreign to us, such as perpetual violence, destruction, the disappearance of species and life forms, the depletion of resources, etc. We are violent towards each other, and also towards ourselves. The situation produces fear, resistance and alienation. How would our way of relating towards these things change if we tried to welcome or integrate them?
2. Inalienability. Violence emerges from alienation, fear and hostility. What happens to us if we move away from alienation, towards inalienability?
3. Conditional and unconditional hospitality (Derrida)

12:00-12:10 Structure
1. Introducing the structure of the day: lunch, workshop, discussion
2. Introducing the structure of the following days

12:10-13:00 Lunch

13:00-14:30 Seeing is Receiving
In this exercise, we will explore the ways in which we see things, and how our way of seeing affects the way we perceive, receive and respond to them. Even if I will only be talking about sight, you can include and work with the other senses as well. Seeing something fully involves the whole body and affects our being on various levels.
We will concentrate on two main ways of seeing – you could think of them as two different gazes. The first one is a gaze that sees everything at once, without categorizing that which it sees. It is an all-inclusive, deconcentrated gaze. The second gaze is a devoted gaze: it sees only one thing at a time, but is devoted to seeing and receiving it fully. It looks deeper and deeper into that which it encounters.

Part 1: Intro/Mapping
1. Choose a spot that feels inviting to you at the moment. Look into the horizon.
2. Begin turning around to either direction. As you turn around slowly, notice what kind of objects and things appear in you field of vision. You can consider this as an initial mapping of the surroundings.
3. When you’ve arrived at your original location, turn around again. This time, try to see that which you excluded or did not notice the first time around.

Part 2: Seeing everything – an all-inclusive gaze
1. Map out the borders of your field of vision. You can use your hands as a tool: locate them at the edges of the field and move them slightly backwards so that you can no longer see them. Do the same with the upper and lower edges of the field.
2. Once you have a sense of the full width and height of your field of vision, try to see and include everything in it equally, so that nothing pops out or becomes more important than the rest. You can allow the contours of things dissolve, so that they begin to merge with each other. You do not need to distinguish between gestalt and background.
3. Once you have a sense of this way of seeing, you can turn around again. Notice how your perception of the environment has changed.
4. Gradually, you can let go of the exercise.

Part 3: Zooming in – a devoted gaze
1. Choose a single focus in your nearby surroundings. It can be anything.
2. Begin to zoom in on it. You can go physically closer and closer to it, if that helps. Try to become aware of every single detail, and include them all.
3. Once you feel like you’ve seen it all, look closer. See if you can go even deeper.
4. Begin to distance yourself from the thing you are perceiving. As you zoom out, you can become aware of the context the thing is embedded in, and the relations and networks it is a part of. You can perceive it from different angles and perspectives and see if its appearance changes.

Part 4: Shifting the gaze
1. Now, your task is to move in the surroundings on your own. You can shift between these two modes of perception and see what kind of movement this shift produces.

14:30-16:00 Including the (non)human in us

Part 1: The human
1. Pair up with someone.
2. Sit or stand facing each other.
3. Decide which one is the host, and which one is the guest.
4. The task of the host is to receive or include the other as fully as possible. The guest can focus on being received or included.
5. The host can see to what degree she/he is able to include the other, and whether there are things that feel difficult to include fully.
6. Change roles.
7. Both can let go of the roles and see what emerges. Notice how your being-with the other is affected by the exercise. If one needs to, one can change position in relation to the other.

Part 2: The nonhuman
1. Go for a walk in the surroundings (limited).
2. Find a being or a thing that feels foreign to you.
3. Position yourself next to it or facing it.
4. See how and to what degree can you receive or include it.
5. See how your being is affected by it.
6. When you move away from the being, see how your movement or way of being is still affected by the inclusion. Can you keep the other with you as you move?
7. You can stay with one single being the whole time. If you feel that the process of inclusion has come to an end or that nothing new emerges anymore, you may move from one being to another.
8. When I ring the bells, you may return to the place where we started. But keeping the beings still with you. When everyone has arrived we may let go of the exercise.

A Non-Conclusion


(Updating the) Project Description

The BodyBuilding Project is a shared inquiry into the sensibilities, subjectivities and relational capacities we, as interdependent beings, might beneficially develop in response to the planetary urgencies we currently face. It encourages us to reimagine the propensities currently identified as “human”, and to begin building bodies capable of prefiguring life beyond our collapsing horizons.

This paragraph is the conceptual layout. At the moment, it is extremely dense: it attempts to describe both the aim and context of the project in a few short sentences. Originally, the description was much longer and more detailed: it described the manifold crisis condition we are in, as well as our relation towards it. Also, it focused on the somewhat pompous idea of us being able (or at least willing) to develop ways of imagining a future for us as a species, and to propose ways of getting there.

In the current version, the crisis condition is already taken for granted, as if it was something everyone was familiar with; also, the idea of us launching ourselves towards a possible future has been dropped. The emphasis is on the reimagination and reevaluation of the human, which seems to be at the core of the project. It is fundamentally a speculative project, and thus remains continuously on the move, on the verge of the possible. The open speculation enables the integration of various, possibly contradictory elements and attitudes into one whole, which seems to be important for us; even if we share the same values, our approaches and ways of relating to both the project and the questions it is addressing are different from each other.

The project consists of a perennial artistic research process and a series of public events created collaboratively by a growing body of artists, theorists and practitioners. Our aim is to develop a series of embodied practices that can be sustained both individually and collectively and transmitted in a variety of ways.

This paragraph is very practical and concrete, which makes it both necessary and enjoyable. The concrecy can manifest in various ways, and develop along the way.

We are currently taking part in a group exhibition at HIAP Gallery Augusta on Suomenlinna Island. The exhibition, titled Excavations, opened on June 12 and will continue until the end of August. Our participation manifests mainly in the form of weekly practice sessions and discussions, as well as intensive workshops and events.

This paragraph represents the local aspect of the project – it describes the events that are happening right now.


Further notes on hospitality 2

I’ve now read “The Foreigner Question”, which is the first part of Derrida’s “On Hospitality”. I keep pondering over the question of the host. To begin with, I find myself wondering whether or not the whole concept of a host only reinforces the divide, and the hierarchy, between the “inhabitant” and the “guest”, or the “native” and the “immigrant”. To host is to make space for another, to allow them in, to care for them – while remaining separate from them through that very act of taking care. To take care, or responsibility, for something or someone often translates into subtle (or less subtle) forms of governance and micro-management – wanting the other to be well and assuming to know what they need.

Is it really possible to host without any conditions or agreements? Is it possible to host while allowing the other in completely; while exposing and opening oneself to the contingency and unpredictability of this relation, as well as the possibility of being undone or radically altered by it? Would it not be more hospitable to not intentionally host the other, and instead simply allow them to be there? Would this allow for a more equal relation to emerge? When does hosting and being hosted transform into living together, as equals?

Perhaps the problem of hosting has to do with our tendency to hold back in order to make space. There’s an underlying assumption that to make space for someone else, and to accommodate them, I need to withdraw and pull back, as if space was limited and measurable. However, it seems to me that by pulling back, I’m actually making the space and its potentiality smaller rather than more ample. The potentiality of being is diminished through withdrawal, by my not allowing myself to flood and fill the space, and to share this state of abundance with another. Doesn’t my withdrawal signal that the other should also do the same – i.e. not flood or leak freely, but rather regulate and contain themselves? Perhaps my greatest gift to the other could be that of following and expressing my own desire, making myself as comfortable and apparent as possible, and thus giving them space to do the same. Not holding back due to a fear of overstepping, crowding, or hurting the other by being everything one can be.

I’ve now moved onto the second seminar, “Step of Hospitality / No Hospitality”. The following paragraph makes me think (or reminds me of the fact) that the potentiality of the host, and the home, is actually activated through the entrance of the guest. That to become, to move, to enter a state of potentiality, I need the other, and the state of indetermination (s)he brings with her. I am dependent on her.

It’s as if (and an as if always lays down the law here) the stranger – some Oedipus, in fact, in other words the one whose guarded secret about the place of death was going to save the city or promise it salvation through the contract we have just read – as if, then, the stranger could save the master and liberate the power of his host; it’s as if the master, qua master, were prisoner of his place and his power, of his ipseity, of his subjectivity (his subjectivity is hostage). So it is indeed the master the one who invites, the inviting host, who becomes the hostage – and who really always has been. And the guest, the invited hostage, becomes the one who invites the one who invites, the master of the host. The guest becomes the host’s host. The guest (hôte) becomes the host (hôte) of the host (hôte).

I am also now remembering the small inklings of practice I introduced at CARPA. The second one of the exercises was based on the idea of inviting oneself into what is already happening. I was suggesting that the invitation happens through inclusion – that to invite oneself in, or to be invited in, one needs to include the one who invites (the host), which makes the invitation a two-way movement. The inclusion needs to be mutual for it to happen.

How does the inclusion happen, then? What changes in me, and in the space, when I include another in it, and invite them to enter “me”? Does the “me” change already at the threshold, through the act of inviting the other in? What does the intimacy of sharing the space that once was “mine” do to us? Allowing the other to enter also means that there is no going back, to what I was before. I am permanently disturbed and shaken, moved by the other’s entrance and inhabitation.

Desire measures time since its abolition in the stranger’s entering movement: the stranger, here the awaited guest, is not only someone to whom you say “come,” but “enter,” enter without waiting, make a pause in our home without waiting, hurry up and come in, “come inside,” “come within me,” not only toward me, but within me: occupy me, take place in me, which means, by the same token, also take my place, don’t content yourself with coming to meet me or “into my home.” Crossing the threshold is entering and not only approaching or coming.


The group splits in half. Group A enters the room, group B stays outside. 
Instructions for group A:
1. Find the spot in the room that feels the most attractive or comfortable for you at the moment.
2. Begin inhabiting the spot by finding a position or a way of moving that feels good to you. 
3. Someone will come and visit your home-space. Your task is to allow them in and share your space with them for a while.

Instructions for group B:
1. Enter the space. Choose the person that you feel most drawn to or intrigued by at the moment.
2. Go to the person and find a suitable way of approaching them. You can use different levels and movement qualities, such as walking, crawling or rolling. 
3. Spend a moment with the person and let yourself be affected by them. Inhabit their space together with them.
4. Leave the space when it feels right. 

Further notes on hospitality 2

Further notes on hospitality 1

Let us say yes to who or what turns up, before any determination, before any anticipation, before any identification, whether or not it has to do with a foreigner, an immigrant, an invited guest, or an unexpected visitor, whether or not the new arrival is the citizen of another country, a human, animal, or divine creature, a living or dead thing, male or female.
Jacques Derrida: On Hospitality

To consider adversity, affliction, as a friend and poison as invaluable influence. If we don’t produce our own rituals of terror, terrorism will come from the outside as though unwanted and as if not of our own making. I know I can speak for the country I come from; we really think it’s not us. That’s insane. We’re way beyond complicit with the way we’re being attacked. We created that, and it’s the last thing United States wants to look at. That’s the medicine we can’t swallow, there.
Robert Kocik

to accommodate, accommodation
foreign, foreigner, foreignness
hospitable, hospitality
(to) host
hostile, hostility
hostis (host or enemy)
to invite
to include, inclusion/exclusion
to (be) open, openness
other, otherness
to own, ownership
stranger, strangeness
terror, terrorism
to visit, visitor
to welcome

Among the serious problems we are dealing with here is that of the foreigner, who, inept at speaking the language, always risks being without defense before the law of the country that welcomes or expels him; the foreigner IS first of all foreign to the legal language in which the duty of hospitality is formulated, the right to asylum, its limits, norms, policing, etc. He has to ask for hospitality in a language which by definition is not his own, the one imposed on him by the master of the house, the host, the king, the lord, the authorities, the nation, the State, the father, etc. This personage imposes on him translation into their own language, and that’s the first act of violence. That is where the question of hospitality begins: must we ask the foreigner to understand us, to speak our language, in all the senses of this term, in all its possible extensions, before being able and so as to be able to welcome him into our country? If he was already speaking our language, with all that that implies, if we already shared everything that is shared with a language, would the foreigner still be a foreigner and could we speak of asylum or hospitality in regard to him?
Derrida: On Hospitality, p. 15

If we wanted to pause for a moment on this significant fact, we would have to note once again a paradox or a contradiction: this right to hospitality offered to a foreigner “as a family,” represented and protected by his or her family name, is at once what makes hospitality possible, or the hospitable relationship to the foreigner possible, but by the same token what limits and prohibits it. Because hospitality, in this situation, is not offered to an anonymous new arrival and someone who has neither name, nor patronym, nor family, nor social status, and who is therefore treated not as a foreigner but as another barbarian. We have alluded to this: the difference, one of the subtle and sometimes ungraspable differences between the foreigner and the absolute other is that the latter cannot have a name or a family name; the absolute or unconditional hospitality I would like to offer him or her presupposes a break with hospitality in the ordinary sense, with conditional hospitality, with the right to or pact of hospitality. — To put it in different terms, absolute hospitality requires that I open up my home and that I give not only to the foreigner (provided with a family name, with the social status of being a foreigner, etc.), but to the absolute, unknown, anonymous other, and that I give place to them, that I let them come, that I let them arrive, and take place in the place I offer them, without asking of them either reciprocity (entering into a pact) or even their names.
Derrida: On Hospitality, p. 25

That, following one of the directions it takes, is the question of the foreigner as the question of the question. Does hospitality consist in interrogating the new arrival? Does it begin with the question addressed to the newcomer (which seems very human and sometimes loving, assuming that hospitality should be linked to love – an enigma that we will leave in reserve for the moment): what is your name? tell me your name, what should I call you, I who am calling on you, I who want to call you by your name? What am I going to call you? It is also what we sometimes tenderly ask children and those we love. Or else does hospitality begin with the unquestioning welcome, in a double effacement, the effacement of the question and the name? Is it more just and more loving to question or not to question? to call by the name or without the name? to give or to learn a name already given? Does one give hospitality to a subject? to an identifiable subject? to a subject identifiable by name? to a legal subject? Or is hospitality rendered, is it given to the other before they are identified, even before they are (posited as or supposed to be) a subject, legal subject and subject nameable by their family name, etc.?
Ibid., p. 27

Now if my “home,” in principle inviolable, is also constituted, and in a more and more essential, interior way, by my phone line, but also by my e-mail, but also by my fax, but also by my access to the Internet, then the intervention of the State becomes a violation of the inviolable, in the place where inviolable immunity remains the condition of hospitality. — All these techno-scientific possibilities threaten the interiority of the home (“we are no longer at home!”) and really the very integrity of the self, of ipseity. These possibilities are experienced as threats bearing down on the particular territory of one’s own and on the law of private property. They are obviously behind all the purifYing reactions and feelings of resentment. Wherever the “home” is violated, wherever at any rate a violation is felt as such, you can foresee a privatizing and even familialist reaction, by widening the ethnocentric and nationalist, and thus xenophobic, circle: not directed against the foreigner as such, but, paradoxically, against the anonymous technological power (foreign to the language or the religion, as much as to the family and the nation), which threatens, with the “home,” the traditional conditions of hospitality. The perversion and pervertibility of this law (which is also a law of hospitality) is that one can become virtually xenophobic in order to protect or claim to protect one’s own hospitality, the own home that makes possible one’s own hospitality. (Remember as well the xenotransplantation we were talking about last time.) I want to be master at home (ipse, potis, potens, head of house, we have seen all that), to be able to receive whomever I like there. Anyone who encroaches on my “at home,” on my ipseity, on my power of hospitality, on my sovereignty as host, I start to regard as an undesirable foreigner, and virtually as an enemy. This other becomes a hostile subject, and I risk becoming their hostage.
Ibid., p. 51-54

No hospitality, in the classic sense, without sovereignty of oneself over one’s home, but since there is also no hospitality without finitude, sovereignty can only be exercised by filtering, choosing, and thus by excluding and doing violence. Injustice, a certain injustice, and even a certain perjury, begins right away, from the very threshold of the right to hospitality.
Ibid., p. 55

But current technological developments are restructuring space in such a way that what constitutes a space of controlled and circumscribed property is just what opens it to intrusion. That, once again, is not absolutely new: in order to constitute the space of a habitable house and a home, you also need an opening, a door and windows, you have to give up a passage to the outside world [/’etrangerl. There is no house or interior without a door or windows. The monad of home has to be hospitable in order to be ipse, itself at home, habitable at-home in the relation of the self to itself.
Ibid., p. 61

Where do these strange processes of hospitality lead? These interminable, uncrossable thresholds, and these aporias? It is as though we were going from one difficulty to another. Better or worse, and more seriously, from impossibility to impossibility. It is as though hospitality were the impossible: as though the law of hospitality defined this very impossibility, as if it were only possible to transgress it, as though the law of absolute, unconditional, hyperbolical hospitality, as though the categorical imperative of hospitality commanded that we transgress all the laws (in the plutal) of hospitality, namely, the conditions, the norms, the rights and the duties that are imposed on hosts and hostesses, on the men or women who give a welcome as well as the men or women who receive it. And vice versa, it is as though the laws (plural) of hospitality, in marking limits, powers, rights, and duties, consisted in challenging and transgressing the law of hospitality, the one that would command that the “new arrival” be offered an unconditional welcome.
Ibid., p. 77

“Enter quickly,” quickly, in other words, without delay and without waiting. Desire is waiting for what does not wait. The guest must make haste. Desire measures time since its abolition in the stranger’s entering movement: the stranger, here the awaited guest, is not only someone to whom you say “come,” but “enter,” enter without waiting, make a pause in our home without waiting, hurry up and come in, “come inside,” “come within me,” not only toward me, but within me: occupy me, take place in me, which means, by the same token, also take my place, don’t content yourself with coming to meet me or “into my home.” Crossing the threshold is entering and not only approaching or coming. — This is always the situation of the foreigner, in politics too, that of coming as a legislator to lay down the law and liberate the people or the nation by coming from outside, by entering into the nation or the house, into the home that lets him enter after having appealed to him. It’s as if (and an as if always lays down the law here) the stranger – some Oedipus, in fact, in other words the one whose guarded secret about the place of death was going to save the city or promise it salvation through the contract we have just read-as if, then, the stranger could save the master and liberate the power of his host; it’s as if the master, qua master, were prisoner of his place and his power, of his ipseity, of his subjectivity (his subjectivity is hostage). So it is indeed the master the one who invites, the inviting host, who becomes the hostage – and who really always has been. And the guest, the invited hostage, becomes the one who invites the one who invites, the master of the host. The guest becomes the host’s host. The guest (hôte) becomes the host (hôte) of the host (hôte).
Ibid., p. 123

First let us consider the distinction between unconditional hospitality and, on the other hand, the rights and duties that are the conditions of hospitality. Far from paralyzing this desire or destroying the requirements of hospitality, this distinction requires us to determine what could be called, in Kantian language (in an approximate and analogical way, since in the strict sense they are in fact excluded in this case, and this exclusion needs to be thought about), intermediate schemas. Between an unconditional law or an absolute desire for hospitality on the one hand and, on the other, a law, a politics, a conditional ethics, there is distinction, radical heterogeneity, but also indissociability. One calls forth, involves, or prescribes the other. In giving a right, if I can put it like that, to unconditional hospitality, how can one give place to a determined, limitable, and delimitable – in a word, to a calculable – right or law? How can one give place to a concrete politics and ethics, including a history, evolutions, actual revolutions, advances – in short, a perfectibility?
Ibid., p. 147

Should one hand over one’s guests to criminals, rapists, murderers? or lie to them so as to save the people one is putting up and for whom one feels responsible? In Genesis (I9:Iff), this is the moment when Lot seems to put the laws of hospitality above all, in particular the ethical obligations that link him to his relatives and family, first of all his daughters. The men of Sodom demand to see the guests whom Lot is putting up, those who came to his home that night. The men of Sodom want to see these guests in order to “penetrate” them, says one translation (Chouraqui’s: “Get them to come out to us: let’s penetrate them!”), to “get to know” them, another modestly puts it (Dhorme’s in the Pleiade collection: “Get them to come out to us so that we can get to know them”).
Ibid., p. 151

Further notes on hospitality 1


stabilization by change and adjustment (whereas homestasis is stabilization by attempting to remain the same and adhere to metabolic set-points); variation by means of predictive regulation

(from Old English ongemang; in assemblage, in mingling)

mutual surrender (no longer a contradiction); “the planet needs us to its surrendering of itself to us

the risk of losing everything because it’s all you have, over the risk of having all that you could lose, in place of having more than you could ever lose or something other than that which you could lose; having more than you could lose all at once


enlightenment of oneself for the benefit of others


exhaustive negativism, to break the spell of reality and realize openness or spaciousness; superposition of the eight possible arrays of proposition or contradistinction:

Positive configuration
1 P
2 Not-P
3 Both P and Not-P
4 Neither P nor Not-P

Negative configuration
1 Not (P)
2 Not (Not-P)
3 Not (Both P and Not-P)
4 Not (Neither P nor Not-P)

coexistent nonexistence

a space in which a condition is overcome or contradicted

condition disinterest
indifference to conditions; not complicit with conditions creating one’s inconsequence; not reactive toward a particular condition; bordering on equanimity; getting out of cause and effect; not determined by the determined, socially, materially or otherwise. Complicit with conditions creating our inconsequence.

what you will need then as now

downstream defamiliarization of the raw-downstream stupidity-downstream moronizing-downstream daaa
“I’m just sitting here with these shoes and I’m trying to think.” “On the patch of floor in from of me there are a million things I don’t know.” Always trampling on something. Can’t even put my weight our the ground. Material alienation

extended interoception

(or as Mirko says: “leave it in the ground.”) True for fields, true for petroleum, minerals, gas. True for our works, words, wants and wishes? Cultivating the fallowness, leaving as is; letting it do what it does. Assuming alternation, oscillation, rhythmic interchange with effort

folk home, all folks folk home folk


global day of falling down (the falling down of avarice?)
collapsing as raising up; to let collapse, to lay down, put to rest, to end an oppression; to know the difference between supporting and preventing (collapse); to collapse without collapsing; to know the difference between falling that is opening and falling that closes; falling as leaving independent agency

the hologenome theory of evolution proposes that the object of natural selection is not the individual organism, but the holobiont, i.e. the organism together with its associated microbial communities

hyperstatic communalism
when a structure has excessive or redundant support each member can be less stiff as any force with a moment at one section will be redistributed to neighboring sections under less strain; static indeterminacy as distinct from a statically determinate (or iso-static) structure in which there is little or no redistribution of loads and local failure means systemic failure (brings the whole building down with it)

inalienable practices

sprinkled with the sacrificial meal (immolare “upon” + “mola” meal. Mola, mola. Turning the body into the earth that can absorb our behaviors

implantation touch



temporoceptivity; not losing track due to moving to fast, while being on time

sympathetic joy; vicarious happiness that comes from delighting in the well-being of others, especially materially

peeling away or dissolving the senses, as spaciousness and clarity for right conduct (to fill out the sciences of perception, proprioception, exteroception, interoceptivity)


tacit teaching; the tacit as teaching; non-teaching as teaching.

putting everything at stake: making everything matter

variously defined as dependent origination, dependent arising, interdependent co-arising, conditioned genesis, interdependent causation, [literally] arising-in-dependence-upon-conditions. Are we, as a configuration, arising in some other way than phenomena itself? Would that be possible or preferable? (Always precarious to “prefer.”) Can we get together and just be outside of cause and effect?

making favorable, making it safe to be given a gift or to give


brings up what can’t be brought up otherwise; clarifying and cathartic for all those around, as well; tears, by the way, biochemically speaking, do expel pathogens


coming about without conditions

wu chi
limitless space with there no organizational forces, yet in which stuff happens, directly due to that limitlessness


All the exercises

Anniina and I collected all the exercises and grouped them. We plan to identify some exercises or exercise clusters that could be considered “key”, and to develop these exercises further. Also, we would like to synchronize the list of exercises with the glossary.


If you notice that some exercises are missing, please post them on the blog. We noticed that at least the following descriptions are missing:

Herding and being affected (Outi)
Sounding/singing exercise (Outi)
Gravity – antigravity (Satu)
Tonglen (Robert)

All the exercises

Morning Practice Sun 28 June

Proprioception + interoception
1. Choose a position you feel comfortable in.
2. Bring your awareness to the field of your body. Notice the state it’s in at the moment, as well as the shifts that may occur. Notice which senses you use to sense yourself. Notice what is in the background, and what in the foreground of your perceptual awareness.
3. Continue moving your awareness across the field. Listen to the stimuli and the impulses that arise from within. You can move or touch yourself if it feels enabling. See if your perception or sense of the field shifts as you move.

Extended proprioception + interoception
1. Shift your awareness to the space and the bodies around you. > Expand your sense of self (the interoceptive field) into the space around you.
2. Bring your awareness to a neighboring body and observe it as if it were yours, or a part of your body > sense it from the “inside” rather than “outside”. Become the other’s self-sensing organ. (You can use the means that are available to you at the moment – you can open your eyes if needed, approach the other body, sense into it with your hands, etc. You may even include touching if it comes naturally.)
3. Expand your awareness to the whole group. Continue doing the same you did before.
4. Go outside; do the same with a nonhuman body. (This can be done alone or in a group.)

Proprioception (/ˌproʊpri.ɵˈsɛpʃən/ pro-pree-o-sep-shən), from Latin proprius, meaning “one’s own”, “individual,” and capio, capere, to take or grasp, is the sense of the relative position of neighbouring parts of the body and strength of effort being employed in movement. In humans, it is provided by proprioceptors in skeletal striated muscles (muscle spindles) and tendons (Golgi organs) and the fibrous capsules in joints. It is distinguished from exteroception, by which one perceives the outside world, and interoception, by which one perceives pain, hunger, etc., and the movement of internal organs. The brain integrates information from proprioception and from the vestibular system into its overall sense of body position, movement, and acceleration. The word kinesthesia or kinæsthesia (kinesthetic sense) strictly means movement sense, but has been used inconsistently to refer either to proprioception alone or to the brain’s integration of proprioceptive and vestibular inputs.

Humans have a multitude of senses. Sight (ophthalmoception), hearing (audioception), taste (gustaoception), smell (olfacoception or olfacception), and touch (tactioception) are the five traditionally recognized senses. The ability to detect other stimuli beyond those governed by these most broadly recognized senses also exists, and these sensory modalities include temperature (thermoception), kinesthetic sense (proprioception), pain (nociception), balance (equilibrioception), vibration (mechanoreception), and various internal stimuli (e.g. the different chemoreceptors for detecting salt and carbon dioxide concentrations in the blood).

Nociception (physiological pain) signals nerve-damage or damage to tissue. The three types of pain receptors are cutaneous (skin), somatic (joints and bones), and visceral (body organs). It was previously believed that pain was simply the overloading of pressure receptors, but research in the first half of the 20th century indicated that pain is a distinct phenomenon that intertwines with all of the other senses, including touch. Pain was once considered an entirely subjective experience, but recent studies show that pain is registered in the anterior cingulate gyrus of the brain. The main function of pain is to attract our attention to dangers and motivate us to avoid them. For example, humans avoid touching a sharp needle, or hot object, or extending an arm beyond a safe limit because it is dangerous, and thus hurts. Without pain, people could do many dangerous things without being aware of the dangers.

An internal sense also known as interoception is “any sense that is normally stimulated from within the body”. These involve numerous sensory receptors in internal organs, such as stretch receptors that are neurologically linked to the brain. Some examples of specific receptors are:
Hunger (motivational state) defined in humans, in the past as an aspect of lust. This sense comes from three of the five classic senses combined or separate, sight, smell and taste.
Pulmonary stretch receptors are found in the lungs and control the respiratory rate.
Peripheral chemoreceptors in the brain monitor the carbon dioxide and oxygen levels in the brain to give a feeling of suffocation if carbon dioxide levels get too high.
The chemoreceptor trigger zone is an area of the medulla in the brain that receives inputs from blood-borne drugs or hormones, and communicates with the vomiting center.
Chemoreceptors in the circulatory system also measure salt levels and prompt thirst if they get too high; they can also respond to high sugar levels in diabetics.
Cutaneous receptors in the skin not only respond to touch, pressure, and temperature, but also respond to vasodilation in the skin such as blushing.
Stretch receptors in the gastrointestinal tract sense gas distension that may result in colic pain.
Stimulation of sensory receptors in the esophagus result in sensations felt in the throat when swallowing, vomiting, or during acid reflux.
Sensory receptors in pharynx mucosa, similar to touch receptors in the skin, sense foreign objects such as food that may result in a gag reflex and corresponding gagging sensation.
Stimulation of sensory receptors in the urinary bladder and rectum may result in sensations of fullness.
Stimulation of stretch sensors that sense dilation of various blood vessels may result in pain, for example headache caused by vasodilation of brain arteries.

Other animals also have receptors to sense the world around them, with degrees of capability varying greatly between species. Humans have a comparatively weak sense of smell relative to many other mammals while some animals may lack one or more of the traditional five senses. Some animals may also intake and interpret sensory stimuli in very different ways. Some species of animals are able to sense the world in a way that humans cannot, with some species able to sense electrical and magnetic fields, and detect water pressure and currents.


Circles of listening
1. Listen to the sounds that are closest to you, include the sounds within your own body.
2. Expand the circle of listening by including sounds that are further and further away from you. What is the furthest sound you can hear? If you try to listen beyond it, what do you hear?
3. Try to hear all the sounds at the same time. Try to not name them or distinguish them from each other.
4. Notice what you are leaving out (or not hearing).

Zooming / Telescoping Awareness
1. Zoom in on a little detail, and listen to it as closely as you can.
2. Move back to hearing everything at the same time. Move between these two modalities or ranges.
3. Allow the listening to move you in the landscape.

Virtuaaliset äänet
1. Laajenna kuulemistasi kuultavien/konkreettisten äänien ulkopuolelle. Miten voit kuunnella ääniä, joihin kuuloaistisi ei yllä? Ne voivat olla esim. liian hiljaisia, liian kaukaisia tai muutoin kuulemattomissa.
2. Laajenna kuuloa tilassa ja ajassa. Miten voit kuunnella tilallisesti äärimmäisen kaukaisia tai laajoja ääniä, esim. ilmastonmuutoksen tai sään ääntä? Miten voit kuunnella maan geologisten kerrosten ääniä? Entä avaruuden ääniä? Kuinka kauas galaksiin voit kuulla?
3. Ajallinen laajentaminen historiaan ja tulevaisuuteen. 10000 vuotta taaksepäin ja eteenpäin. Pyri kuulemaan kaikki nämä ajat samanaikaisesti.

Morning Practice Sun 28 June

Basic exercises in need of development

Becoming aware of the field
1. I stay relatively still and bring my awareness to field of the body. I observe the state it is in and the small movements, impulses and affects that may emerge.
2. I become aware of the factors and phenomena that are affecting my state of being at the moment. These may include environmental factors (e.g. the texture of the floor, the shape of the room, the sound of the traffic, the temperature) as well as experiences that emerge from within (e.g. tensions, moods, emotions, memories, desires, expectations).
3. I bring my awareness to one factor or phenomenon at a time and investigate the ways in which it affects me. The affects can turn into small movements.
4. I begin to move in space and spend time with certain factors, investigating them further
5. I commit to one factor and choose a position in relation to it.

Becoming an event-environment
1. Choose a partner. One moves in the surroundings with the idea of being with, the other witnesses. The mover moves with the surrounding. The witness witnesses the event as a whole, not just the person. Extending the body into the surrounding.
2. The witness lets the event affect his/her body and being, and begins to participate in the event in one way or another. The mover includes the witness-participant.
3. The event includes both people and everything around.
4. The original mover begins to withdraw and turns into a witness.
5. This goes on for a while.

1. Find the spot in the room that feels the most attractive or comfortable for you at the moment.
2. Begin inhabiting the spot by finding a position or a way of moving that feels good to you. 
3. Someone will come and visit your home-space. Your task is to allow them in and share your space with them for a while. The visitor’s task is to find a way of approaching and entering the space that feels appropriate in relation to the person.

Turning oneself into a room
1. Sense your own body.
2. Start working intuitively in space and turn your internal sensations into a spatial installation that occupies one corner of the room.
3. Visit someone else’s “body”. Place your own body in it. See how it feels.

Exchanging places
1. Find a space that feels meaningful to you.
2. Explore it and find a bodily position and a relation that feels right in relation to the surrounding. Stay there for a while.
3. Once you have found the place, you can return to the starting point.
4. Choose a partner. Take them to your place and position them in the same position you were in before. They will describe their experience of the place.
5. You can discuss the space and your experience of it together.

Experiential body + Exchanging identities
1. Scan through your body, become aware of everything: What kind of sensations, moods or emotions do you experience? How does your body feel at the moment? Is there pain anywhere?
2. Draw an image of yourself: how you perceive yourself from the inside at the moment, how does your body feel, how do you experience it.
3. Find a partner and exchange images with him/her.
4. Let the image inform and affect you. Become the other, or another.
5. Go back to your partner and tell them how it feels to be them (what kind of information you’ve received and accumulated).
6. The partner can add things and teach you how to be like them.

1. We sit in a circle.
2. Notice how your body is. What kind of a position are you sitting in? How are your hands and legs placed? How does your head tilt, what do you see?
3. Shift your gaze from one person to the next. Pick up different characteristics (their position and posture, the way they move their head, the shape of their body, their gaze, the way they position their hands, etc.) and try them on, like clothes.
4. Allow the mimicking and copying accelerate and turn into a warm-up. You can also copy the movements in between.
5. Relocate the movements in space. See what they mean or how they change in this new context.
6. Allow yourself to stay in some postures. Use them to do what you need to do.
6. Find a partner and keep doing the same. You can let go of mimicking and allow movements or responses to emerge.

Basic exercises in need of development


Approach the books that are available to you at the moment. Spend a moment familiarizing yourself with them, leafing through them or simply being with them.

Read a bit of text to the space and the beings that share it with you. The text can be one that is known or important to you from before, or something you’ve only just encountered.

Listen to the other texts that might be read.

Then, pick one of them and head out into the surroundings. Find an entity or presence, whose temporality is clearly distinct from yours, either due to its short lifespan or its extremely long duration.

Read the text to the entity and see how the temporal disjunction/difference affects your relation to the text.