There are many things that I have learned from Ido Portal that have completely changed the way I see the world, but there is one idea that stands out for me, and that is the idea of mapping. I find it special because it was one of those moments that switched my perception of certain things immediately and gave me a framework with which to investigate the world better, which allowed me to take better decisions. It is useful because it serves as a tool to recognize whether the level from which I am assessing a phenomenon or situation is adequate.
We can navigate reality in many ways. One of them is seeing everything at face value and ignoring the inherent complexity of things: the common black-and-white thinking prevalent nowadays—a binary look at the world where we attribute freely the notions of “good” and “bad” to everything that we observe. This approach makes things easier, protects us from being overwhelmed, but it also moves us farther away from the truth. When you are interested in examining the world deeply, however, you discover that there are infinite layers of complexity to everything that exists. This is a laborious task that does not give you certain answers, so you are constantly forced to face the unknown, the unpleasant, and your own ignorance. If you have the understanding of the concept of mapping, and you are willing to make an effort to apply it, you at least have a place to start from.
I hope there is no need to explain the meaning of the word “map.” What many people do not perceive immediately when hearing it, though, is the huge amount of possible maps that exist, each of which gives specific and distinct information about the territory it describes. There are physical maps that we are all familiar with, which show natural features like valleys and lakes. There are political maps that display the borders of states and administrative areas. There are topographic maps that show contours of elevation and terrain. There are road maps focused on transportation routes. There are maritime, satellite, and climate maps. Maps that show population density and migration patterns. Maps that denote ethnic and language groups. Battle maps, ancient world maps, astrological maps, cognitive maps, and so on and so forth.
Theoretically, you could use a political map to get around when you are looking for the nearest restaurant, but it would not be the most appropriate way of doing so, and it will cost you more time and effort, in case you eventually succeed. Similarly, you cannot use a climate map to give you comprehensive information about the cultural groups living in an area and what languages they speak. However, if you overlap the data all these different maps provide, you can get a good glimpse into the nature of the territory and its peculiarities. These different layers of information do inform each other, but they provide very different kinds of details about the existing area in the material world.
This overlapping of information is a very important feature of reality that is crucial to understand: different features of a phenomenon or a situation give you information about it only in a specific domain from which you assess it at the moment, and not about its totality. The problem I often see is that, by having just one piece of information about something, people often jump to conclusions about the totality of it, as if this one-sided bit of data could give a comprehensive view of whatever it is they are looking at. This is especially ridiculous when it comes to assessing such an incredibly complex organism as a human being, or a whole system that is comprised of many human beings, like a political entity of any size.
The term “mapping” can have different meanings depending on the context in which it is used in a literary sense, but the general definition would be identifying relationships between elements. This definition is versatile and can be applied across domains. When I use the word “mapping,” I refer to the process of enriching my representation of the world and the things in it. What do I mean by that, and how can it be applied in real life?
Let’s say I meet a new person. The first layer of mapping would be the “shell” of this person’s image in the world—name, age, nationality, etc. All this information gives me a certain starting point from which I can position this individual in my broader map of relationships. A completely different kind of information is provided by the association with the person who introduced us—this is a completely different point of assessment, and it starts giving the individual I just met another dimension. When we start talking, I begin gathering bits of their personality from the way the conversation goes, which adds more layers to my image of this person, and each of them communicates something different. This way, I create a 3D map of my new acquaintance, and the further I get to know them, the more maps will overlap, and the more comprehensive a picture of this individual will be constructed within my view of the world. This way, I will be able to make better decisions on whether this person is trustworthy to do business with, whether I want to get a coffee with them, or whether I can trust them with any secrets, etc.
In fact, this type of mapping is actually already applied unconsciously by each of us when we look at any object. We do not simply perceive objects in the world: we perceive the relationships between things, and each individual object is a whole story created by overlapping internal maps that were formed in previous experiences. The difference is, when you do not recognize that this process is happening and do not participate in it consciously, you rob yourself of the possibility to examine the underlying complexities that compose the world. Our perception already has this feature installed in it: when we see an object, we see possibilities or affordances, as they call it in the field of psychology. For example, when we see a pen, we do not simply observe its appearance in the visual field, but instead we recognize the affordances of this object immediately: with this thing, I can write things down. If we did not have prior experience encountering such an object, we would not be able to position it in the schema of the world and determine what kind of value it could have in our life. In the case of a pen, it would be something like seeing a tube with a blue liquid inside. I will still see an affordance, however, based on my previous experience. For example, I will recognize it as an object with which I can make a hole or which I can use as a weapon. Imagine a person from the 1500s seeing a modern car. There would be no possible way of mapping it because nothing in that person’s experience could provide a reference for understanding what that thing is for. So it will be rather perceived like a magical deity, or a monster of some sort. In other words, when we see objects in the world, we see possibilities.
When we engage with movement, we also constantly map ourselves, our environment, and other people. The more exposure we have to different ways of moving, the more comprehensive our model of it becomes. Collecting various maps helps to enrich and expand our possibilities—and ultimately, ourselves. Imagine how poor the world of someone who can only move in a linear way would be. This person is constantly walking around Rome with the map of New York and doesn’t understand why they cannot get to the needed destination.
For me, the act of engaging daily with movement practice is a conscious and deliberate act to ensure that I use the correct maps for the correct territories. It helps me to see the complexities of the world and avoid making assumptions about the phenomena in it that I have not encountered previously. It gives me depth of perception, depth of personality, and helps me find depth in everything around me. It keeps me interested in life and all its dimensions.