One of the foundations of how we conceptualize our sense of self today, perhaps came from the 17th century philosopher Rene Descartes’ most famous maxim, cogito ergo sum or I think therefore I am. Taken to an extreme that Descartes himself may never have meant, we are conditioned to prioritize self-interest, applaud the pursuit of our own happiness, and promote personal freedoms dictated by one’s own morality.

The word ‘Permaculture’ was coined by Bill Mollison and David Holmgren in the 1970s to refer to the “consciously designed landscapes which mimic the patterns and relationships in nature, while yielding an abundance of food, fibre and energy for provision of local needs” [1]. What began as an ecological movement towards ‘Permanent Agriculture’, over time, evolved into something far more holistic and all encompassing; a set of principles and values of what it means to be conscious, contributing human beings and reviving a way of living that aims to develop interdependence and personal responsibility in every sphere of life.

Despite their universal existence in all civilizations and all times of history, myths have often been scoffed at and regarded as old wives tales. August Comte, the founder of positivism and sociology, relegated myths to the most early and primitive level of intellectual evolution and Lucien Lévy-Bruhl, a French philosopher, associated myth with pre-logical mentality common to the most primitive stages of mankind.

Extracts from an evening hosted by New Acropolis Culture Circle. Philanthropy can be a bridge between the ideal of fraternity and its material manifestation. Imagining a better world, with a greater sense of fraternity is intuitively appealing to many. Yet, to make a personal sacrifice in order to create that better world, is the choice that we make less often than is needed.

In this light, it is relevant to ask – what drives one to share with that urgent sense of duty? Does one need money and power to be a philanthropist? What is the relationship between our choices and our identity?

Philosophy means “love of wisdom or knowledge”. It is a route illuminated by the sun of truth. Anything which does not respond to this essential characteristic is not philosophy, but mere speculation and alternative repetitions of what others have said, taking as much advantage of the old teachings as a spoon takes nourishment from and enjoys the soup in which it is dipped.

“And how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?

Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn’t see?

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?”

These lines from Bob Dylan’s song – Blowing in the Wind – flashed in my head as I put down another book written on Giordano Bruno, arguably one of the greatest philosophers from the 16th Century. The lines of the song and Giordano Bruno’s quest seem to echo each other – to urge humanity to look beyond the dark sheaths of ignorance, the petty disputes, divisions and one-upmanship, and to explore the true identity of what it means to be human, which is much more than the mode of survival that has become the focus of our ‘living’, today.

Between the Middle Ages in Europe when it was engulfed in darkness, and today where we admire the marvels of human creation, connectedness, technological advancement, and medical progress, have we really become smarter, happier, more loving and caring? Why does it feel that the last few hundred years of progress have largely been about attempts to master the everchanging outside, without ever addressing the real core of the problem? Have we even spent enough time to understand what the core is? Have we made progress towards finding out what our life is about and who we really are?

Delia certainly lived all her life with this vocation to do something useful, to help others and to improve the world she encountered. For all those who knew her, she was an exceptional human being, a great example of wisdom, humanity, willpower, infinite kindness and a generous love that expected nothing in return.

As the Sun rises over the horizon and fills the sky with its magical light, a 2000 year old ritual is performed daily in the few remaining Zoroastrian temples of Mumbai. The priest performs a ceremony (5 times each day), tending to the flames of the consecrated fire, offering fragrant sandalwood and incense while reciting ancient texts venerating the holy fire, ringing a bell nine times, rejecting evil thoughts, evil words, and evil deeds. Such veneration of fire, however, is not distinct to the Zoroastrian community. Many cultures around the world have worshipped fire in different manners over millennia.

The shame and frustration of losing, in fact, have nothing to do with the person or circumstance which defeated us, it is our inner resistance to accept the fact that we are not perfect and that we need to continue and train ourselves; It is a resistance to the fact that in this lifetime we may not be able to achieve everything we dream of.

One cannot speak of philosophy without speaking of the philosopher; one cannot mention the world of ideas without speaking of the person who is capable of living those ideas. So, if we had to highlight one of the fundamental characteristics of the philosopher, the lover of wisdom, we would say that such a person has the qualities of the eternal seeker. He is a self-conqueror, who will only stop seeking when he has finally reached wisdom; and we don’t know whether, even then, he will go on to seek other things, which are incomprehensible and inaccessible for us today.

Modern-day living seems to center around finding as much comfort in life as possible and aspiring for some growth, usually material. As a result, we are facing the great challenge of seeing our planet’s resources declining, and a general concern about our survival on earth. The fact that ecological activism is on the rise is encouraging, but also underlines that something very wrong is happening and needs to be rectified. Though, we recognize the need to be more aligned to nature, our lifestyles are not in accord with this idea. Probably, for many of us, what it means to live in harmony with nature has become a foreign concept

In the wee hours of the morning, Emperor Akbar awoke to the sweet melodious singing of Haridas, guru of the celebrated singer of his court, Tansen. Haridas had been singing a dawn raga. Overwhelmed, Akbar inquired why Tansen was not able to sing like his guru Haridas. Tansen replied that there was one big difference between him and his teacher; while he sang for his lord Akbar, The Great, Haridas sang for the Lord of the universe – God.

I am referring with this title to the life and work of a Chinese philosopher called Mengzi, or Mencius, as the Latinized version of his name is written. Born in Zou province around 371 BC, he lived in a period known as ‘The Warring States’, which lasted from 481 to 221 BC. It was probably as a result of seeing much cruelty and much suffering among the people of the time that Mencius promoted his philosophy of benevolence.

Mencius was a devoted follower of Confucius, and while the concept of benevolence (ren or jen) is a key part of Confucius’s teachings, it takes on particular importance in the philosophy of Mencius

During the Renaissance, while Europe was experiencing a gigantic shift of ideas in almost every aspect of knowledge, in India, was born a man who, as Emperor of Hindustan, would use his indomitable courage and a restless search for wisdom to weave a similarly audacious social, political, and spiritual vision in the Indian subcontinent. His name was Abu’l-fath Jalal-ud-din Muhammad Akbar.

Almost every ancient culture thought it important to somehow preserve, communicate and transmit mythology related to this supreme God from generation to generation. Amon in Egypt, Apollo in Greece, Surya in India, Amaterasu in Japan, Xihe in China, Mithra in Mesopotamia,