By Moses Cirulis
Presented by Modest Metamodernist
After the events of early 2022, my soul was a little crushed. The capital of my country had been occupied and its citizens kept awake for a week, ostensibly in the name of freedom from vaccination, but in reality in the interest of protecting the “right” of the powerful to oppress the weak.
Those same occupiers then went on to support Russia as its fascist leadership finally ordered its poorest and most unprepared young people to attack the people of Ukraine. Putin used “de-Nazification” as his cassus belli-a cruel irony given the decade he spent funding and supporting Nazis all over the democratic world. [1] But his troops fired on civilian cities, raped women, fired on people fleeing combat [2], and were ready to disappear LGBTQ people like in Chechnya, not to mention had far more openly fascist battalions than the Ukrainian people sadly had to deal with. [3]
But it’s 2022, Jews are Nazis and ignorance is strength I guess.
But Something Was About to Change…
Bearing all that in mind-in March I was deeply dispirited. I had been focused on keeping my immediate loved ones fed during the pandemic. I took more shifts than I normally did. My art career was all but dead (not to mention this blog was inactive-my apologies). I was semi-convinced that the democracies of the Anglosphere were falling apart, and that I had precious little that I could do to stop it.
And then I found an invitation to a certain conference in my email. Emerge.
I could hardly believe it. A decade spent desperately trying to sell comics at conventions where people barely tolerated my presence, a decade spent trying to get into and finally completing my guts, 3 years slinging coffee and reading and writing what I could; and this Tomas Bjӧrkman fellow extended an invitation to this dividual, yours truly?
I vowed to make it if I could.
It didn’t hurt that the cautiously optimistic (or maybe slightly fearful given the far-right antivax occupation attempt) [4] re-opening of the world and a massive labour shortage opened up some opportunities for my loved ones. This allowed me to focus more on the upcoming trip to Austin-including the purchase of, at long last, a good travel backpack, a travel kit, a good new security pouch, and airplane tickets (the biggest expense of that trip, by far).
Interestingly, I also found myself looking at PNGtubers, basically illustrated figures that serve to represent their creators talking during Youtube videos and livestreams, as opposed to fully animated VTubers. I was finding myself inspired to illustrate again, to see if I could make something good based on the concept. Time will tell how well this works.
But I digress.
The Morning of the Flight
The morning we were to make the flight to Austin, I told my pal that the airport had informed me that we should show up 3 hours before the flight - but, based on his travel experience, he insisted that we show up 2 hours early.
The initial registry for the flight worked like a breeze, but predictably, the security check heading into the United States was a lot more involved and took considerably longer. We ended up missing our initial flight - though thankfully Air Canada, anticipating this possibility, duly set us up with a new one, after my bestie called them.
My friend was despondent and felt super bad that we missed the flight. I told him that the only thing he had to feel sorry for was not listening to me.
We got a modest lunch and waited for our flight, talking about life. Without getting unduly personal, lots of changes happened in his family’s life, enough to substantially change him, though in most respects he was still very much the same nerd I came to know and love, platonically speaking, all those years ago.
We boarded relatively easily, and I watched a documentary about Ray Parker Jr., creator of the Ghostbusters theme, who, incidentally, was also a highly accomplished guitar session player in the Motown scene even before that opportunity came along.
At a glance on one of the screens behind my own, the headline on CNN indicated that Roe vs. Wade had been repealed by the Supreme Court of the United States. It would no longer be a country where freedom of choice was the norm for women’s bodies. I had known this was coming for the last few weeks. I was saddened that it had finally come to pass. But not surprised, at least not in the same way as I had been when Trump first came to power.
And here I was, flying into the heart of one of the states that had voted for this very outcome, given that it was Trump who had appointed the judges who ultimately overturned Roe vs. Wade. What was I thinking?
Texas, As Expected
Our brief layover in Houston gave me basically what I expected Texas was: liquor to the rafters, no recycling bins in sight, and an uneasy tension between the naturally conservative character of the state and a desire to sell merchandise to those pesky liberal travellers. There were a few NASA related items of some modest interest but I ended up skipping such things in favour of some quite decent foil wrapped tacos and a fruit smoothie - for alas, because of having missed that initial straight flight, I was now missing the introductory dinner for Emerge.
When I started reading up on conference etiquette, one of the words of advice was not to show up late to check-in or any major event-the introductory dinner that Tomas Bjӧrkman graciously invited me to would have fallen into the latter category. But I was already finding that Emerge was something of an exception to the rule in that regard if only because I wasn’t the only one having trouble flying in-indeed; some folks missed the conference outright due to flight snafus.
To make matters a little better, one of the organizers got in touch with me to ask my permission to transfer my dinner ticket, which over bites of tinfoiled Tex-Mex I freely gave-and as my light came in I happily reported that I would still make it to the conference itself, before turning my phone back to airplane mode.
On the quick ballistic lob in, I watched Guy Fieri’s “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives”, something I’ve been meaning to see for quite a long time. I have more to say about this-for now though, I’ll save it for a future blog post-I did enjoy it though.
Upon arrival in Austin, we waited in a stack of concrete slabs for an Uber, drove to a store hoping that it would still be open (it wasn’t), then walked up street, past innumerable rental scooters, parties in converted saloons, beautifully terrible guitar players, rainbow decorations, and alas, silent beggars carrying their cries for help on cardboard signs. We walked through the mess and the magic to the Firehouse Hostel-a beautifully preserved fire and rescue station that had been converted into a thoughtful co-living hostel with a lounge that played smooth jazz into the wee hours of the night-a nuisance to some, I’m sure, but as someone who had come from a city long gentrified to death, it was a little comforting. I got in a cool shower, rearranged stuff for the morning walk, and then tucked in for a short sleep.
A Truly Diverse Crowd
The next morning, I foolishly didn’t realize that breakfast would be provided, so I woke up early and grabbed breakfast for myself and a local person in need, and then I walked on to the Austin library.
Making it in as Tomas Björkman was starting the keynote speech, the first thing that struck me was the very diverse set of views present in the crowd. Though I’m very much in agreement with Tomas that a third attractor (which goes by many names but my personal favourite lately is Solarpunk) is needed, I did find myself playfully joshing about with the Doomer Optimist in the crowd, Christian Dungca. Björkman’s map showing the Nordic countries as having the most pronounced secular and self-expression values was also quite familiar to me as it was also cited by my mentor Hanzi Freinacht in his book The Listening Society-one of the first books I read as I deepened my relationship to Metamodernism beginning in 2020. But, understandably, the graph underestimated the sheer number of self-expressions present in the North American populated crowd, some of whom immediately wrote the chart off as colonialist.
It’s this sense of mismatch in cultural sensibility-notably the crucial understanding of the sense of trust, or lack thereof, in one’s society-that the European organizers of Emerge didn’t quite grok. The ideas of development that Tomas pointed out are in fact best done on one’s own terms-and can therefore actually shake off the degradation that colonialism has wrought. However, it requires a sense of openness and trust in one’s fellows that has really only held in a few quiet moments in North American history-one of them being my own childhood, which is how I can retain some strange faith that we CAN still become the best versions of ourselves, despite it all.
But most Americans especially can’t reasonably trust each other enough to spur on such development on such a massive scale yet-much less trust these ideas coming from someone they undoubtedly viewed as some privileged European, who was seemingly shaming them for being insufficiently self-expressive and secular. I’ve been in the deep end of political Metamodernism long enough to know that Tomas didn’t plan any sort of impositionary process, much less colonialism-nevertheless, I’ve been attempting to grok the counter-developmental perspective long enough that it made sense to me that these folks felt the way they did.
Lessons from the Integral Past
The morning keynote over, the first event that I opted to attend was called Lessons from the Integral Past-a group circle turned panel that was facilitated by Layman Pascal, Bruce Alderman, Roger Walsh, and Nomali Perera, with Nomali doing much of the intellectual heavy-lifting due to her well-earned confidence working alongside Ken Wilber at the Integral Institute back in the day. There was quite a bit of playful back ‘n’ forth between myself and the facilitators regarding whether the developmental maps were perfect as they were or if they were in need of reform (I took the latter position, as a committed Metamodernist, which I’ll probably clarify in a later article).
However, any disagreements were handled quite respectfully, and we all agreed on one key takeaway-whatever name the third attractor goes by, we should not rely upon a singular guru. Even a brilliant, committed, and generally ethical figure like Ken Wilber will simply succumb to our inevitable human frailties-in his case, health issues; but so many great minds have outright died over time.
A meme cannot rely solely on a single person to transmit it.
A Modest Metamodern Lunch
During a tasty lunch of DIY salad, rice, and in my case savoury garlic tofu, I gave Tomas Björkman a humble gift. It was all I could do to show my appreciation for his invitation, since he flitted between events and facilitation duties in a nearly ghostlike fashion (very much in a friendly ghost sort of way though-he never spooked you from behind or anything). This gift was a mug from the rather large commercial cafe I work at, celebrating the women of Rwanda who worked at a coffee farm that made a deliciously citrusy small batch coffee that was in season at my cafe at the time. The story written on the flavour text cards emphasized how these women used their nascent coffee business to rebuild their community after the horrific genocide of 1994, and yes, it’s all cynically very modern and capitalist, I’m a sucker for buying into the schmaltz of a big corporation, yadda, yadda…
Still, all this happened. This was a story of redemption, such as is possible in our limited, capitalist world.
I didn’t know how much of this Tomas knew, as I didn’t really get around to imparting all this. Maybe I was still ashamed of slinging coffee for a living. Nevertheless, he graciously thanked me and gave me a consensual hug and we grabbed our respective tables and ate our modest lunches metamodernly.
The Second Circle-Retreat Centres and Intentional Communities
The second circle I attended that Saturday was a very different one, and I quite intentionally attended one on a topic that I knew much less about. It was about retreat centers and intentional communities, and the main presenters were people who were complete opposites of each other and yet had complimentary dispositions, even as they gently challenged each other-a veteran liberal spirituality retreat facilitator with deep knowledge of the Christian monasteries that such retreat centers had emerged from throughout North America, and a young woman with more immediate lived experience within that environment, who also recorded the event in audio.
A recurring theme throughout this panel was the need to buy land in secluded areas, yet also engage in regenerative agriculture in a way that serves the local community. Despite my appreciation for the regenerative farming movement, in part because of the efforts of my beloved sister to learn this practice, something felt off about all of this. Disconnected. Inaccessible.
So I raised my hand and sort of suggested an Epicurean garden type scenario-an intentional community that still functioned within the city. Something that working people could still access to gain respite and access to their higher potential.
There was an immediate, interesting response to this-the fellow who was most in favour of the idea was Michael Paul Hill-an indigenous leader who has been involved in cleaning up the atrocious Agent Orange spill in the river system of the San Carlos Apache, among other highly important leadership functions. [5] Michael emphasized that working class people couldn’t necessarily relate to the desire to live in a secluded village and that accessibility was a concern as well. We didn’t talk too much more on the subject but it was a fascinating get together. However, there was one more thing left to do.
The Sacred Water
We went outside, to watch and take part in a sacred water ceremony conducted by the Kalpuli Texas Quetzalcoatl indigenous volunteer group [6], led by a medicine woman named Yolanda. This group conducts various sacred indigenous rites in the region, to my knowledge. The ceremony was beautiful, but also reminded me of just how much indigenous practice Wicca has lifted-granted, different versions of censing incense and calling the four directions exist in many cultures, per our ever-present, common origin, but something about this felt deeper somehow. More authentic.
The waters used for the water ceremony came from sacred bodies of water from over 36 countries. Apparently we weren’t supposed to use it to water the local trees but sadly one of the volunteers and I missed the memo-in my case, I just didn’t know, and for the volunteer, it’s standard op. Regardless, we both ended up apologizing to the organizers profusely, me especially.
The Sunday Dance and Spirituality
The following day, we opened with a big group dance, then went into our smaller circle panels again. The first group circle I attended, The Spiritual Dimensions of a Third Attractor, was a big one, and thus we splintered into smaller groups about midway through.
The subgroup I was in talked about development and spirituality. I couldn’t resist talking a bit about the logical processes of each Metameme.
But even so, the group discussion was wide and varied, not least thanks to Jeremy Johnson and some of the other leaders.
The Metamodern Circle
Over lunch, I found out that there would be a panel facilitated by Brendan Graham Dempsey specifically about Metamodernism. Naturally I politely asked him if I could co-facilitate, he agreed to it, and then I did a quick scramble to update the boards on time.
That panel was small but sweet. Brendan covered most of the developmental notes of Metamodernism, which allowed me to focus on the history and technological developments that have facilitated the movement.
The folks there expressed a hope afterwards that I would have talked more-and there were complaints that Brendan was mainly re-iterating Integral developmental points. I contend, however, that if I had been the lead on the panel, I probably would have re-iterated many of those same developmental points, being the filthy Freinacht student that I am (and indeed I have previously talked about development in my own work.)
Much as I contended at the history of Integral panel, Metamodernism and Integral really are basically the same Metameme, just with different foci. Integral covers largely spiritual practice, which allows us Metamodernists to focus more on practical philosophy concerns. Brendan articulated it as well as I possibly could, and I was proud to come in and add a little flavour.
One Last Big Gathering
The last event of the day was a big group circle in which people rotated in and out to throw in some final thoughts. There was a particularly awkward moment when a New Age North American fellow offered up a Sikh chant as a moment of loving kindness-followed immediately by the British Sikh fellow admonishing the whole conference for idealizing cultures that don’t even have modern medicine. Another female-appearing person proclaimed “fuck transcendence”.
This was a perfect encapsulation of the uneasy tension inherent to the Metamodern synthesis. I would have said something to that effect, but it was one minute left by the time I had the mic, and a sweet lady, Ēlen Awalom, had yet to speak.
So I handed her the mic.
She said, from years of experience, that shaming people involved in social justice simply didn’t work. I don’t think I could have used the time better-I only hope I didn’t put her on the spot.
And so, the conference ended, but there was still an after party to enjoy.
The After Party
We enjoyed bratwursts and all manner of vegetables and cheeses and talked about all sorts of topics as we unwound from the conference. As I lounged with a brilliant older gentleman, he talked to me about seeking what made me happy in life. Brendan, who I co-ran the Metamodern panel with, and Jeremy Johnson ( A scholar of Clare Graves who’s something of a hero of mine), were both there talking. Heck, Ēlen, who graciously helped me get there, was present and actively mingling through the crowd. But I seem to be a “one-on-one chat” type of ambivert. So, I spent most of the evening chatting with one Danielle Johnson before soaking my toes in the backyard pool of the AirBnB.
Danielle Johnson, like me, was a good layman who had a relatively low- paying day job. We spent much of the evening chilling, and exchanging tips and wisdom. At the end of the evening, I Ubered myself and one Fluran back to the Firehouse Hostel, rested, and reflected, looking forward to breakfast with my bestie.
Notes
[1] This JStor article does show that the Kremlin funded Marine Le Pen in France, and other far-right figures in Europe have also likely received Russian funds due to their support. Combine that with my finding in a previous article that the American far-right funded Canadian antivaxxers and my hunch that they are also funded by Russia and….well, you get the picture. https://www.jstor.org/stable/48600543?seq=1
[2] This Wikipedia article contains all the links and proofs of my claims that you could possibly need: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_crimes_in_the_2022_Russian_invasion_of_Ukraine#:~:text=Since%20the%202022%20Russian%20invasion,attacks%20in%20densely%20populated%20areas.
[3] Radio Free Europe has the scoop on Russia’s far-right leadership: https://www.rferl.org/a/russian-neo-nazis-fighting-ukraine/31871760.html
[4] Written about quite a bit in my previous article:
[5] Micheal Paul Hill has been documenting his efforts to call the US Department of Defence to account for, among other things, the Agent Orange spill: https://ictnews.org/author/michael-paul-hill
See also: https://www.indianz.com/News/2016/10/10/michael-paul-hill-agent-orange-affects-s.asp
[6] The Instagram for the Kalpuli Texas Quetzalcoatl group: https://www.instagram.com/kalpulli_texas_quetzalcoatl/