When the sexual syntony, or one-to-one instinct, is primary, life revolves around a deep one-to-one connection. The focus is on the bond between two people. It is a relationship marked by intimacy, trust, and mutual knowing. This may be romantic, but it can also take the form of a profound friendship, family tie, or partnership of purpose.

When our dominant instinct is social, we are finely tuned to the order and flow of relationships around us, such as our place in family, friendships, community, and organizations. We sense hierarchy, rank, and the subtle shifts of acceptance or exclusion. Those with this as their dominant instinct can feel the energy of a room, sense who holds influence, who feels left out, and where they themselves stand within the circle.

Our gut-level feelings are most acute in one of the three primary instincts: self-preservation, social, or sexual syntony (one-to-one). We are sensitive to all three, yet each of us favors one, making it the most developed and instinctively trusted.

Recently, at the gas pump, I realized I left my credit card at a restaurant in a town an hour away. My mind raced with worry that the card had been taken. Because of the perceived loss, I was under stress and forgot to pause to enter my body. My ego kept telling me that the worst-case scenario would occur, which only heightened my concern. As soon as I remembered to drop into my body, things changed. I became aware of a gut level feeling that everything would be okay. My worry evaporated. Turns out that, unlike the ego’s predictions, the card had been turned in and the manager had it in safe keeping.

From time to time, we may say to ourselves or someone else, “I have a gut-level feeling about this.” Sometimes our minds are unclear, and even our hearts hold mixed emotions. But the gut speaks with unmistakable clarity. We feel its message viscerally, deep within our core. The viscera are the soft internal organs of the body, including the heart, lungs, liver, pancreas, kidneys, stomach, intestines, and reproductive organs. When they are affected, we know it. These vital organs hold our most primitive and instinctual feelings.

I was about ten years old, walking up my street, when a younger neighbor named Tom came out from the wooded empty lots and said he’d found an enormous turtle. “Come see it,” he said, and of course, I followed.

Seeing a child’s eyes light up is a wonderful experience. When they finally understand something, grasp a concept, have an insight, or finally see what was hidden, they are a step closer to reaching the fullness of their life. For me, their most touching Ah Ha’s are those of the heart. 

After a lifetime of learning, you find yourself with a wealth of knowledge—perhaps even a wealth of wisdom. One of the natural fruits of living and learning is that we deepen and expand our worldview. Every new insight expands our comprehension of existence itself.

When I was nine years old, I met a set of my grandparents for the first time. It was a wondrous adventure sailing to England, my mother’s homeland, and meeting all the relatives I had only heard about. There would be hundreds of new things my brother and I would learn during the summer in and around Northumberland, with Mom and her family. 

As we live and learn, many of our most meaningful lessons are enlightening and heartwarming. They often turn into our most cherished memories. Perhaps your mother or father once pointed to a breathtaking sunset, and from that experience, you learned that the world turns. Maybe you watched birds build their nests and felt wonder stir within you. Or someone special may have taught you how to ride a bike or drive a car, and your world grew larger that day. Living and learning are not always about difficult experiences. It can include all the happy surprises and the Ah Ha’s of life. 

I learn something new every day. Many of those lessons are not pleasant, yet each one brings me into a deeper fullness of my humanity. We are all on a lifelong journey toward self-actualization, the unfolding of our true selves. But this “apex” of our identity is not a fixed peak. It continues to expand as we grow in consciousness, drawing us ever upward.

One of the first things we ever learn in life is trust. Our first course in trust might be called Nourishment 101, and we took it as infants. From our first breath, nourishment was essential, but we were helpless to provide it for ourselves. Our caretakers held our survival in their hands. We had to learn to trust them for food, warmth, love, and care. And food was the very first practical lesson. The feeding process itself became the laboratory for Trust 101.

We invite you to join us for this week’s series of Daily Reflections: “You Live and Learn.”

The old saying “You live and learn” has been around for centuries, appearing in English writings as far back as the 1500s. Its meaning is timeless: we gain wisdom and understanding through life’s experiences, especially the difficult or surprising ones. George Gascoigne wrote in 1576 in his play, “The Glass Government,” that life itself is a kind of school, and according to our teachers, our mistakes become lessons. 

A guided meditation for you:

During the first part of meditation, many of us experience constant mind chatter—continuous random or fixated thoughts about “what is next?”, “what if?” Business and personal matters fly in front of our eyes, This phenomenon is directly related to the ego’s desire to perpetuate the “story of me.”

Many people may think it “weird” to chant the word “Om” before entering a meditation. But the ancient Hindu and Buddhist practice of chanting this curious word has a method in its madness. According to spiritual teachers down through the ages, “Om” elicits the energy of the universe by vibrating our bodies with the basic vibration of all creation.

The human organism, like all of nature, seeks homeostatic balance. When one aspect is out of order, the other aspects prop it up until it can function normally again. This phenomenon occurs in all of nature. In his book, The Hidden Life of Trees, biological scientist Stephen Wohlleben points out that a stand of trees whose roots are inter-connected become an organism unto themselves. And when one of those trees is ill, the others send extra nutrients to the ailing tree until it recovers. The trees are individual parts of a common life, shared by each of them. All the parts work in concert to compensate for any lack or deficit in the community.

Gratefulness is one of the most cherished qualities of the soul. It arises from an awareness that we are blessed. Something has entered our lives that we could not have given ourselves. Gratitude awakens when we recognize that without that gift, we would be at a loss.