For several years I have been teaching online about the constraints that give rise to containers. I have a bunch of exercises that I do with people to give them a felt and embodied sense of “container” while we are online.
Today Matt Webb shares an interesting experience related to that:
A few weeks ago I was on a zoom call where someone had a standing mirror in their room in the background. I’ve never seen that before. It kept me weirdly on edge throughout like it violated some previously unstated video call feng shui or something.
(I had another call in which the person’s screen was reflected in a shiny window behind them and so I could see my own face over their shoulder. But that seemed fine. This was not the same.) …
For several years I have been teaching online about the constraints that give rise to containers. I have a bunch of exercises that I do with people to give them a felt and embodied sense of “container” while we are online.
Today Matt Webb shares an interesting experience related to that:
A few weeks ago I was on a zoom call where someone had a standing mirror in their room in the background. I’ve never seen that before. It kept me weirdly on edge throughout like it violated some previously unstated video call feng shui or something.
(I had another call in which the person’s screen was reflected in a shiny window behind them and so I could see my own face over their shoulder. But that seemed fine. This was not the same.)
My disquiet came because the mirror was angled such that it showed an off-screen part of the room. I could see beyond the bounds; it broke the container.
The very best way to learn about dialogic containers is to notice dialogic containers. Where are the spaces inside of which you make meaning and how are they enabled? Carry that question with you.