we are its weavers

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. - Carl Sagan

The observer cannot escape the web.

We are not trapped by the web; we are its weavers. 

To see the world through the hexaflex of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) is to wield a kind of alchemical web. This web is spun from the interwoven strands of Relational Frame Theory (RFT), functional contextualism, and the stubborn beauty of human transformation.

It is an invitation to place all events, experiences, and even the residues of human creativity (our so-called “permanent products”) under the lens of mindful engagement. Through this lens, we can witness their tangled poetry and engage in ways that are not only meaningful but also radically transformative.

The Hexaflex is a Prism

Imagine, if you will, the hexaflex as a six-faceted prism: one part mindfulness, another acceptance, and yet another defusion. Add to these values, committed action, and self-as-context. Shine the light of human experience through it, and what emerges is a spectrum—an iridescent stream of psychological flexibility. This is no static tool; it’s a kind of Rumi-esque mystic who whispers, “Try seeing your pain as the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.”

RFT, as the underpinning of this prism, offers us the language of relational connections—the way humans learn to link “self” with “other,” or “past” with “future,” or even “suffering” with “beauty.” It’s the web—a fragile, tensile structure that reminds us of Neruda’s words: “Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.” What if we approached every event as a ceremony, every product of human effort as sacred, and every interaction as the wild dance of relational frames?

The Web as Universe and Observer

Physics, too, has its web—a cosmic lattice spun from the twin threads of subjectivity and relativity. Einstein told us that time bends and space curves, but it was Heisenberg who shattered our illusions of objectivity altogether. The observer cannot escape the web; their gaze, their questions, even their biases alter the very reality they attempt to measure. Consider a moment from daily life: you’re scrolling through social media and notice a post that sparks a strong reaction. Your interpretation of the post’s meaning is shaped not only by its content but also by your mood, your past experiences, and even the algorithms curating your feed. In this way, your role as the observer actively shapes the reality of the experience, highlighting how intertwined we are with the web of perception. Is it so different in the social sciences? In behavioral analysis, do we not also cast shadows upon the data we seek to illuminate?

The hexaflex acknowledges this truth. Self-as-context—that slippery, paradoxical frame—reminds us that we are both the spider and the fly, both the weaver of relational frames and the creature ensnared by them. Maya Angelou’s words resonate here: “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”

The web metaphor extends further: capitalism and racism are, at their core, relational frames gone awry. These systems were spun from the silk of human language—categorization, comparison, domination—and yet they have become the webs that ensnare us. To engage with them through the hexaflex is to accept their existence (mindfulness), to defuse from their narratives (cognitive defusion), and to act in alignment with values of justice and equity (committed action).

The Relativity of Objectivity

In a world shaped by relativity, where truth depends on the lens through which it’s seen, we long for an objectivity that acknowledges the observer’s influence while embracing the beauty of diverse perspectives. Not the sterile, detached objectivity of 19th-century science, but something more poetic, more inclusive of the observer’s role. Perhaps it’s what Octavia Butler hinted at in her Parable series: a kind of “Earthseed” philosophy that embraces change as the only constant and sees the self not as a fixed entity but as a node in an ever-evolving network.

This is the essence of psychological flexibility. When we apply the hexaflex to any event or experience, we are not seeking to pin it down like a butterfly in a display case. Instead, we are engaging with it as a living, breathing entity—something to be understood in context, through the interplay of relational frames. This is what allows us to find meaning even in suffering, to transform pain into poetry, as Audre Lorde so powerfully expressed: “Pain will either change or end.”

Music as a Relational Frame

Let’s take an example from music, a universal medium for framing human experience, and also consider the everyday act of cooking. In music, albums like Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly weave relational frames of systemic racism and personal identity. Similarly, in cooking, the act of preparing a meal can frame relational connections: mindfulness as you chop vegetables, acceptance of imperfections in the process, and values-driven action in nourishing yourself or others. Both activities, though distinct, illuminate the transformative potential of seeing the web in all things. Consider Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly. This album is not just a collection of songs; it’s a permanent product—a web of relational frames that ties together themes of systemic racism, personal identity, and the quest for freedom. The hexaflex offers us a way to engage with this work:

Or take Radiohead’s OK Computer, which captures the alienation of a digitized, capitalist world. The hexaflex helps us to see it not just as a critique but as a call to re-engage with our humanity, to find connection even in the midst of disconnection. Here, too, the web metaphor comes alive: each track a strand, each lyric a filament, weaving a story that is both deeply personal and universally resonant.

Toward a New Understanding

To view the world through the hexaflex is to embrace a kind of radical humility. Imagine standing in line at the grocery store: you’re frustrated, the line is long, and your thoughts spiral into complaints about inefficiency. Radical humility here means stepping back, noticing your reactions, and recognizing the humanity of the person in front of you. Perhaps they’re juggling a day as chaotic as yours. In this moment, you soften, choosing patience over frustration—not because the line moves faster, but because you’ve shifted your perspective to include others in the web of shared experience. It’s a recognition that objectivity is not the absence of subjectivity but its integration. It’s the willingness to hold multiple perspectives in tension, to see the world as both particle and wave, both web and spider.

In this way, the hexaflex becomes more than a tool for therapy; it becomes a philosophy, a way of being in the world. It asks us to sit with discomfort, to dance with uncertainty, to love even that which we do not understand. It’s what Rilke meant when he said, “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.”

Spinning the Web

As Octavia Butler reminds us, 

“All that you touch, you change. All that you change, changes you.”


futuring together

The body is not a thing, it is a situation.  -  Jean-Paul Sartre

&

“The body never lies.” – Martha Graham

Every moment is an emergent act of creation, shaped by countless relational forces. To understand this is to touch the sacred.

To study the stars or the quantum world is to encounter spirit: the ineffable quality of existence that evokes humility and wonder.

The pursuit of justice is an act of spirit, a recognition that the web of life obligates us to care for one another.

All behavior exists in context, and every context holds the potential for transformation.

We are the same thing, the same love, pushing toward the remembering.