For the first book report of the Movementpractice training programme, I chose The Prophet by Khalil Gibran. Over the course of the ten months, I would like to take on different perspectives on movement, on being human and thus on everyday life, perspectives that differ from my usual scientific way of looking at things. In 26 pieces of life wisdom, Khalil Gibran philosophically addresses a multidimensionality that resembles my understanding of health, resilience and now also Movement. Looking at people holistically is already part of my work as a health scientist and resilience trainer. For the training programme and as a future movement trainer, it therefore also helps to know that movement takes place not only physically, but also mentally, emotionally and within our social context.
Khalil Gibran was a Lebanese-American poet, philosopher and painter. He died in New York in 1931 at the age of just 48. The Prophet was published in 1923 and is considered his best-known work. Reviewers credit him with a poetic, linguistically vivid style of storytelling. As an art lover, I enjoy reading and hearing stories that use imagery in their language. Like other books, this one is therefore a good source of inspiration for designing my classes, helping to make the content and experiences more tangible for participants.
The frame narrative of the book is the story of the prophet Almustafa, who has waited twelve years for the ship that is to take him back to his homeland. Before he leaves, the people of the town of Orphalese ask him to share his wisdom on 26 different subjects. Beginning with love, Almustafa speaks of marriage, freedom, reason and passion, self-knowledge and friendship, among other things, and finally ends with death.
Regardless of what the author describes in terms of content, my very first, critical thought was: why did he choose 26 speeches rather than 26 conversations with the people as the format for sharing his wisdom? Having grown up without faith or any religious affiliation, I am irritated by stories in which individuals are portrayed as all-knowing and as an ordained authority. This format seems particularly contradictory in light of the following two sentences: “People of Orphalese, of what can I speak save of that which is even now moving within your souls?” and “Was it I who spoke? Was I not also a listener?”
Even setting aside the artistic or religious idea of a prophet, I would still have preferred an exchange with the people. I believe that in conversation, unequal roles fall away and everyone can share their own experiences equally. In my work, I keep reminding myself of my boss’s words: “Have the courage to be humble.” By this she means an attitude that assumes we all carry wisdom within us that we can share in conversation in order to learn from one another. In this way, we can meet at eye level, and we can all be “prophets”. The sentence Gibran takes up in the chapter “On Teaching” also speaks for a humble attitude as a trainer and for exchange with people: “If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.” I think this sentence also translates very well to learning new movements, in which we are led to new thresholds of our own body and thus also of our mind.
The book begins with a glimpse into Almustafa’s emotional and inner world: he has longed painfully for the ship’s return, yet also feels great sadness because he will leave his life in Orphalese behind. The first chapter, “The Coming of the Ship”, therefore shows a very vulnerable side of the prophet and describes a state of great change in life. Here, for me, the definition or descriptive sentence for Movement applies: “Movement is life and life is movement …”. However, this sentence sounds rather romantic and beautiful, so that the pain that comes with changing life circumstances seems to be left out. Gibran describes this state fittingly in the following words: “For to stay, though the hours burn in the night, is to freeze and crystallize and be bound in a mould.”
While reading this chapter, I was reminded of a passage from Seven and a Half Lessons About the Brain by Lisa Feldman Barrett. From a neurobiological perspective, new life circumstances mean having new experiences and thus forming new neural connections in our brain. She describes vividly how we build strong neural networks for people and places. This in turn means that as soon as we leave them, or are left by them, for various reasons (such as moving, death or separation), these neural networks fade and we literally feel as if we are losing a part of ourselves. Change is therefore often associated with both joy and sadness. This duality becomes very clear in the first chapter. We constantly experience change in our daily lives. Movement, and also my work as a resilience trainer, have strengthened my awareness of this and shown me how important it is to remain flexible and adaptable.
On a personal level, independent of the training programme, I currently took the most from the texts on love, freedom, friendship, self-knowledge, and reason and passion. The Prophet is a book that I will certainly pick up again in many years, only to find that I think about things quite differently than I do now.