“Learning Whitehead was, for me, like learning a new language. I had to try it out, see if it worked. At first, like learning a foreign language, it was awkward. But gradually I began to see the world in a new way: as alive with feeling, energy, and value. Plants are concrescing, the soil is concrescing, people are concrescing, and I am concrescing. I was learning a 'language game,' to quote Wittgenstein, that helped me live more lightly on the earth, gently with others, seeing value in all of life. Is Whitehead's philosophy 'true'? In some ways yes and in some ways no, I'm sure. But that doesn't matter quite as much as it used to, when I was in college. I'm not looking for the perfect philosophy with all the answers and all the right definitions. I'm looking for a way of thinking that is plausible scientifically and spiritually, and that is fruitful. Whitehead's philosophy is like this for me. And it has inspired me to found a small community of volunteers who are teaching children how to garden. We call ourselves ‘The Nexus,’ one of Whitehead’s favorite words.”
— Ava Thomas, imaginary community educator, former philosophy major, poet, and founder of The Nexus who sees words, seeds, and relationships as growing together
Note on The Nexus
The Nexus, likewise imaginary, is a small, intergenerational volunteer group founded by Ava Thomas in a mid-sized town in the Pacific Northwest. Their focus is on helping children connect with the earth through gardening, storytelling, and community rituals of care. Inspired by Whitehead’s relational cosmology and Wittgenstein’s sense of language as lived practice, they see words, seeds, and relationships as growing together. If asked what they are about, they say eco-social therapeutics. Their name—drawn from one of Whitehead’s most resonant concepts—reminds them that life is made of connections, and that new worlds begin not in abstraction, but in small acts of co-creation.
Language as a Living Practice
Wittgenstein, Whitehead, and Social Therapeutics
Wittgenstein and the Fluidity of Language
Many process philosophers might find themselves at odds with the later Wittgenstein. While they see words like eternal object, actual entity, God, and creativity as terms that point to realities beyond themselves, Wittgenstein emphasized that language is, above all, a complex, communal activity. He spoke of the use of words as “language games” that we learn through imitation and practice within our communities. These games reflect the forms of life in which we are engaged, and meaning is not fixed, but fluid, evolving as communities change and grow.
At one level, this idea from Wittgenstein’s later philosophy might seem consonant with process philosophy, as both emphasize relationality as a fundamental feature of life and the world. However, many in the process tradition still hold to what Wittgenstein called the Augustinian theory of language, which sees words as having a one-to-one relationship with objects and possessing essences that can be clearly defined. Wittgenstein, in his later work, invites process thinkers to gain a degree of freedom from that approach and to embrace the fluidity of language, recognizing that words do not always have simple, fixed definitions in every context.
Poets, Whitehead, and the Power of Words
In turning our attention to poetry, we find that poets are often especially attuned to the relational and fluid nature of language. Poets embrace the evolving meanings of words and are willing to explore and develop new ways of speaking. Shakespeare, for example, was a master of linguistic creativity, giving us dozens of words that had never appeared in English before--lonely, bedazzled, eyeball, swagger, and radiance, to name a few. He also twisted grammar and coined phrases that stretched language in unexpected directions, opening new pathways of meaning and emotional expression.
In this sense, Alfred North Whitehead was likewise poetic. His use of neologisms—crafting new terms like concrescence, prehension, and subject-superject—reflects a creative dimension within his philosophy. This neologistic aspect of Whitehead’s work shows a kind of later-Wittgensteinian and poetic sensibility, where language is not just a tool for pointing to fixed realities, but a living, evolving medium of discovery and creation.
Language in Service of Life
In that way, Whitehead was really encouraging us to engage with the world in a much richer, more holistic way. He wanted us to see that everything around us is infused with value and feeling. His unique use of language invites us into this deeper, more meaningful relationship with the world around us. This has implications for the social aspiration of Whiteheadian thinking—namely, that we learn to live into what process philosophers today call ecological civilizations: local communities that are creative, compassionate, diverse, inclusive, humane to animals, and good for the earth, with no one left behind. Those communities need new ways of speaking and feeling, and they need language conducive to that vision.
This is one reason why, after all, it can be helpful to use, in creative ways, the words that students of Whitehead might otherwise find strange: concrescence, prehension, subject-superject. And likewise, to explore the possibility of using familiar words—like feeling and decision—in ways that stretch beyond conventional usage. There’s no need to be absolutist about it. It is, as it were, a language experiment: an open-ended invitation to craft new habits of expression that might lead us toward fresher, more humane ways of living in the world.
There is no need to believe that every word we use has a single and fixed essence pointing to a particular object in the world, but rather to recognize that language itself is in service to a form of life that may prove to be just what we need in this time of need.
The Broader Context of Meaning
Make no mistake: words can still have referential meanings—they can point to “objects” in the world and in our minds. Words like triangle, sidewalk, God, and experience often do refer, and can be understood as naming realities both material and conceptual. But they do not do this alone. They function in the larger context of forms of life that include much more than the words themselves: habits of action, shared perceptions, affective atmospheres, embodied interactions, imaginative horizons, and the historical and cultural patterns that give language its resonance.
Language, in this view, is not simply a mirror held up to the world—it is also a tool, a dance, a practice, and a way of inhabiting life together. Language is something we can play with. We can stretch it, reshape it, and experiment with new usages—not to obscure meaning, but to deepen and expand it, to open new possibilities for how we live and relate in a world that itself is in process.
Social Therapeutics in Practice
One area in which this creative use of language—including Whiteheadian language—is actively practiced is social therapeutics. Social therapeutics treats human development not as the unfolding of inner psychological traits but as a relational, improvisational process created in community. It views language not merely as a description of life but as a tool for making life—especially new kinds of life together. Here, people engage in activities that help them grow by “performing” new roles and ways of speaking, often before they feel fully ready or certain. They speak new words into being—not as acts of deceit, but as acts of becoming.
This orientation is embodied in the work of the East Side Institute in New York City, a hub for social therapeutics and performance activism. At the Institute, therapy groups, youth programs, elder ensembles, educators, and organizers treat everyday life as a stage for development. Participants don’t just talk about change—they rehearse it. They perform new conversations, experiment with unfamiliar emotional tones, and co-create environments where play, contradiction, and uncertainty are not pathologized but welcomed. Language becomes an instrument of transformation: not just naming the world, but remaking it in small, courageous ways.
Cosmology as a Lived Practice
If we take seriously Whitehead’s idea that philosophy begins in wonder and that every actual entity is a moment of experience, then cosmology is not just an abstract theory of stars and particles—it is a way of seeing and being in the world. Cosmology, in this process-relational sense, becomes a lived practice. It invites us to ask: What kind of universe are we living in? What kind of beings are we, if the universe itself is creative, relational, and unfinished? What kind of language does such a universe call forth?
To live cosmologically is to let our sense of the whole shape how we speak, feel, and relate—to recognize that each word, gesture, and encounter is a tiny act within a vast and ongoing drama of becoming. It means speaking and acting with an awareness of interconnection, novelty, and the presence of possibility in every moment. It also means resisting narratives of separation, domination, and control—cosmologies of certainty and closure—and instead embracing improvisation, mutuality, and openness to the unknown.
In this way, a process-relational cosmology is not just about the metaphysical structure of the universe—it’s about the kind of world we are making together, one interaction at a time. Language, then, becomes a key site of cosmological practice: the space where new meanings—and new worlds—are born.
A Shared Philosophy of Becoming
In this way, Wittgenstein, Whitehead, and the practitioners of social therapeutics offer us complementary resources for navigating a time of cultural, ecological, and existential upheaval. Each in their own way affirms that the words we use—and how we use them—matter. They shape what we can see, feel, imagine, and become.
In a world where entrenched patterns of speech often mirror entrenched systems of harm, the playful, experimental use of language becomes a quiet form of resistance and a subtle act of world-making. When we improvise new forms of dialogue, adopt new metaphors, invent new names for our experiences, or reclaim old ones in fresh ways, we participate in the ongoing creation of meaning—and of the communities and civilizations those meanings support.
Speaking in new ways may not save the world, but it might just help us live into new ways of caring for it—and each other.