Wisdom Chic
One Year After I Attended The Wisdom 2.0 Conference Live
Right
Before Lockdown
Am I Wiser?
Wendy Abrams
Today Wisdom Summit has its first virtual conference after 11 years of live think tank hug festivals in San Francisco. I went last year finally and we weren't allowed to hug.
What is it like to sit in a conference with hundreds of people during a pandemic outbreak?
A week prior to lockdown, I went to the Wisdom 2.0 conference’s flagship event in downtown San Francisco. The theme THEN for 2020 was The Power Of Connection right before we were ordered to disconnect… for a year.
As I soul gazed (extended eye contact), with strangers in the “Embodiment Lounge” opening night, I got to know some of my Wisdom cohorts. Leading a group meditation, Soren Gordhamer, Wisdom’s founder stood tall, thin and a little stressed from the pressure of keeping the show going. We broke into pods of six people and were instructed to pass around a slip of paper with the questions: “How are you compassionate with yourself? What makes you feel connected? When are you most at peace? “Well I don’t know, I guess not giving myself a hard time?” I said. “When I am laughing or telling a story someone gets?” Was that wise enough?
We were, a group of strangers playing a game of emotional telephone standing in a circle drawing pictures with colored pencils of our inner child, expressing qualities that made us comfortable, laugh awkwardly and lean in to hear each other speak. Our psychological masks were being removed, while actual masks and social distancing were not a part of the lexicon or physical culture yet. We were shoulder-to-shoulder staring into the eyes of the other, and the potential virus.
While I scoured the news about every major conference on tech and media’s cancellation status before the conference, I felt the pull of wanting to be a part of the Wisdom conversation. I was working at home alone and wanted to hedge the isolation from technology and freelance writing. There was a lot of stress on my part if I should cancel or stay. As I inched my way up the coast from LA, gripping the steering wheel, the Grand Princess was floating off the San Francisco coast banned by Gov. Gavin Newsom from docking in San Francisco and any other California port until 45 passengers and crewmembers suffering from flu-like symptoms were tested for the coronavirus. What compelled me to go as the signs of the pandemic were already in San Francisco? The conference leaders would not cancel and refund. I had spent about $1,200 on the hotel and event. I had skin in the game, and there was momentum on my part and I always like a good adventure.
Emails from the Wisdom staff read: “Now would be the time we consider greeting each other enthusiastically without a handshake or a hug. Use this as an opportunity to make genuine eye contact and find new creative ways of connecting.” The email also said there were only 14 known COVID cases in the US so far. By the time we got there it had jumped to 163.
The pandemic started to dominate the news the week before I checked into the huge Hilton hotel downtown and my personal mantra was just see how it feels, you can always leave. Why did I go? What was I thinking?
I had inhaled my share of new age spirituality and was feeling cynical and hopeful about the 2020 Wisdom 2.0 conference theme in the year of the election and all of the shouting and anger of the Trump years. I was specifically interested in one of the keynotes, Vivik Murthy, former Surgeon General for Obama and upcoming SG for President Biden. Murthy, a young calm medical icon whose new book Together, was all about hedging loneliness. His road tested sage wisdom about the dilemma of loneliness was a surprise to him. His thoughtful take on this virus of isolation before COVID was powerful to listen to and worth the price of admission.
One major takeaway was his theory that: “Loneliness is a subjective feeling that we are lacking in social connections in our life. There is a difference between what you need and what you have,” he said. “What we feel we need might be different for each of us. In contrast to isolation, which is an objective term which describes the number of people who are around you.”
Murthy went on a listening tour across the US to see how he could help people. He didn’t expect the thread of loneliness to permeate all spectrums of society be it a fisherman in a village in Alaska or members of Congress in Washington. The feeling of loneliness was ubiquitous pre Covid. He also noted how people he treated were coming into his practice alone, making end of life choices and dying alone. “It was an honor to be there but stunning that patients had nobody they could call.”
Murthy was shocked by that last year. This year it is something we hear over and over again, how people have been dying alone and isolated from their loved ones or anyone they know. Another point he made is when we are lonely, we move into an elevated threat state. “ Loneliness is more detrimental to our health than smoking 15 cigarettes a day or not exercising,” he said. The remedy? Much of this has been revealed over that last year after the Wisdom conference as the world has been forced to be creative regarding how they feel connected. He suggested we start small, “ Take 5 minutes a day to reach out to someone you care about. A text, a phone call, any gesture to show that you care.”
Regarding my anxiety about being in a crowded conference on the eve of the pandemic, his very presence was a balm to my worries about gathering in such a large group. Murthy reassured me just by his commitment to show up at Wisdom, as he was aware of the impending threat.
“Whenever I leave for a business trip, I always make the calculation, is it worth it to leave my family for a couple of days?” he asked. Apparently he thought it was worth the risk and we were all in this conference and experience Together.
As a writer working alone at home, I felt overwhelmed and inspired with the prospect of creating more community. I go in an out of social phases and networking, had been a successful publicist in a previous life, however, as time goes on, I become more isolated. It’s easier to isolate, but it’s not good for our health. Wisdom’s topics and emphasis on community has served as a life raft in the hyper ambitious world of tech and making a difference.
Before lock down, I began organizing writing groups in my living room where fellow writers could sit on my couches and chairs and read their work, food would be shared around a communal table. We would have potlucks and thoughtful in home discourse. One of the speakers at Wisdom encouraged us to have people in home settings to create real community. “There is nothing like sitting in someone’s home to have a conversation,” a founder of Tree house, a cohousing community in Los Angeles noted. I wanted create more of an incubator work life at home with like- minded freelancers and entrepreneurs. The Wisdom crew had credible diverse topics on community, gathering, compassion and inclusion. This was a boot camp for me to prepare for the year of the pandemic and also a canvas to be a little cynical. Compassion and connection culture was not in the air. Many of us at Wisdom felt depleted by the Trump years. I wondered Wisdom compassion and inclusion ideal holding water during our election year?
The collection of players in medicine, politics, media, psychology, tech and meditation attracted loyal followers for years and Wisdom is good curating. In 2020 there big names were keynoting from Marianne Williamson to Byron Katie, an elder spiritual guru who founded “The Work,” an inquiring practice about questioning our own stories. Jack Kornfield, a meditation pioneer, leader and dancer/ actress Julianne Hough, Chelsea Handler among others sprinted into the conference and spread their gospel.
Hough lunged into the crowd in a group aerobics class she led with her new earthy workout Kinrgy. We sweated, moved around huffing and puffing while images on stage on screen of fire, earth, sky and ocean wowed us into believing we were powerful vessels of connection and divinity. We relentlessly gathered in mass in public spaces and a trade show with iconic peace and love tomes, brochures on forest bathing and spiritual message jewelry like just breathe, tryhealthyminds.org, Life is good.
As I rested in between session in the Embodiment Lounge on white leather couches drinking designer water looking over the chaotic schedule, a fellow attendee told me “Byron Katie and Jack Kornfield weren’t coming.” She was someone I knew from LA. “They will be streaming, we can still ask questions.” I was mad, they were smart not showing physically after driving up from LA.
As I wrestled with my discomfort levels, I clearly remember listening to Marianne Williamson in a cozy yet crowded breakout room. Again I thought well if Marianne is ok being here, so am I. Then a lady with long wildly gray curly hair, big yoga pants and a sketch- pad sat dangerously close to me as she flagrantly ignored my boundaries a seat in between with my purse. Her comfortable in- her- skin hippy ease took her shoes off and decided to sit cross legged, with her feet touching my purse and thigh, getting into my “space,” while we listened to Marianne Williamson. It was a Q & A on compassion and political advocacy. Marianne was very grounded and earnest, didn’t seem worried about the virus. The lady next to me kept shuffling into my zone. I gave her strange looks and kept moving further from her. Even though our conference seats were well fixed, the chair between us that I put my purse on, had a few encounters with her toes and my shoulder with her long hair that she kept playing with. Personal space at a traditionally huggy conference was getting bizarre.
“I’m sorry is this bothering you?” she asked. “It’s a little close and especially during this time, I don’t think it’s very safe,” I said nicely. I was already social distancing. Little did I know what the year ahead would feel like just walking down my street avoiding people or fearing for my life at the grocery store. Today, a year later, in California I’m not eligible for the vaccine yet. I still dodge and calculate my moves in public and in my private life to the point of oscillating despair and acceptance, isolation and taking small chances.
The lady with the wild hair arranged her derriere wider and pulled her feet in closer, but from her vibes, thought I was being unfriendly. Some people kept themselves truly distanced but no masks or facial coverage. It was a hodgepodge of denial, curiosity, learning and experimenting. A lot like NOW!
Was I just dumb for attending during a looming pandemic? Not really. I kept looking at the leaders who did show. As much as I wanted to be the Dorothy Parker of the New Age, this group had it’s message locked down with a stream of messengers that had some recipes for being human. Before the lock down, Wisdom was a boot camp to help cope.
What did I learn? This was my last hoorah with a mass of humanity. I learned to reach out to people I love. I swallowed my pride and asked for an invitation to an outdoor holiday meal with cousins and was welcomed with open arms, had zoom dinners, texted someone that annoys me but I love them. I made sure my mom had access to FaceTime she lives in Arizona. Small moments of interaction can have a powerful impact on how we feel. Yes, zoom and FaceTime became essential workers in all of our mental tool kits. Murthy’s advice resonated.
I can say now, ignorance was bliss. It was one of my last great adventures in San Francisco and at the conference and the beginning of social distance.
As a result of braving Wisdom, I wandered into North Beach with a friend of mine from Marin who decided to meet me in Union Square and get her own room at the Hilton. We took an Uber with hand sanitizer to Café Trieste, a soulful woman Miko Marks, her band, her family and a snapshot of diversity that felt organic to that little pocket of The City. We huddled and listened with people drinking cups of espresso shoulder to shoulder.
I walked Columbus Avenue bordering Little Italy and Chinatown and it was quiet. I bought a book of short stories at City Lights. I met with my writing teacher Phil Cousineau who led a group of writers to Ireland a few months prior. We met at Francis Ford Coppola’s Café Zoetrope with movie posters, a full bar, a literary enclave with a short story vending machine and bottles of wine on the shelves. We elbow bumped, sat comfortably we had a long discussion about life, gulped some coffee and lunch in the atmospheric corner booth on the window. We talked about writing, travel and the trips that were upcoming and probably going to be cancelled because of COVID.
I’m glad I made the pilgrimage. After the conference, I drove down the coast to Santa Cruz and walked in the forest with my brother amongst the towering redwood trees and we talked and hugged and ate meals together. He gave me essential oils to keep the virus at bay, and I reunited with a friend from college who I hadn’t seen in a year.
When I returned from Wisdom, a few days later, San Francisco ordered the first Shelter in Place order. I went from learning how to connect through techniques and action items that meant reaching out to people to coping with lockdown alone. I avoided people walking down the street, stocked up on toilet paper and stopped having people over or going to family meals in town. A few weeks into the lockdown, the Wisdom community offered a life line, a free amazing gift to a panicked population: Jon Kabat- Zinn who taught us how to breathe again. He donated his time and wisdom to lead a global online community into mindfulness like clockwork. Everyday I flipped on my computer and for two hours he led us into meditation, giving a talk and answering our questions about the mind and the present moment from California to Africa. His daily global practice on Zoom erased cynicism, as this calm generous man held our hand and his own through “unprecedented” times. He did this for four months all facilitated by Wisdom.
I am grateful for the lessons in what was the last time I truly connected with so many people in real time. From the conference to the sky bar at the hotel having spontaneous conversations, cocktails and appetizers with strangers to the sharing circles and my romp through North Beach and its cafés with friends. It was an adventure I won’t forget
This year, Wisdom will have its first flagship conference online starting March 26th and like many signature events won’t be the same. I don’t have the zoom patience to attend, but what I do know, is being in those ballrooms and the city on the precipice of lockdown had an epic impression that was laced with irony.
Wisdom has not gone out of style, they are going virtual this year. It did take focus and attention, patience and an open mind to ride it out last year when each day the news became spookier. I’m glad I took the chance and isolated two weeks after the conference. Thank you Wisdom for the memory and the training for managing humanity one breath at a time. I just don’t think I can get there virtually. There’s nothing like a real world connection, we are almost there, but in the mean time we are into the next chapter.