Kokorology should be in every school curriculum

It is a strange inversion of priorities. Our education system is meticulous in its instruction on the external world, yet fails almost completely to teach the internal one. A child will learn the Pythagorean theorem long before they are taught to recognise the signature of their own dysregulated nervous system. They will memorise the periodic table, but not the mechanics of their own breath. 
 This is more than an oversight; it is a foundational error in how we prepare people for life. We teach them how to build complex things, how to think in abstractions, how to solve for x. We do not teach them how to feel. The results of this omission are all around us, in boardrooms and in families. Burnout is not a badge of honour; it is a failure of self-regulation. Anxiety is not a personality trait; it is a physiological state we are not taught how to navigate. We build lives and companies on a faulty substrate — an ignorance of the very system doing the building. 
 After years of building external systems, my work is now turning inward. I am dedicating this next chapter to what I am calling kokorology — the study of the heart, though not in a sentimental sense. It is the study of wellness as a first-order literacy. It is the work of placing the human operating system at the centre of our concern, as the prerequisite for any other functional system we hope to create. 
 This isn’t about therapy, nor is it an esoteric spiritual practice. It is simpler and more fundamental. It is somatic literacy. It is the ability to notice, identify, and consciously engage with the signals your body is sending you. It is knowing the difference between a thought and a feeling, and understanding how one begets the other. 
 Imagine a curriculum that began here. Before algebra, biology. Before history, a lesson on the history of this feeling in your own chest. We would equip children with the tools to build a stable inner world before asking them to make sense of the chaotic outer one. This is not a 'soft skill'. It is the most practical, functional capability a person can possess. The ability to self-soothe, to find your own baseline, to make decisions from a place of clarity rather than reactivity, is the basis of a competent and coherent life. Everything else is secondary. 
 We are sending generations into the world who are literate in code, in spreadsheets, in literature, but illiterate in the language of themselves. They are experts in external complexity, and novices in their own internal simplicity. 
 To educate a child without teaching them the grammar of their own body is to leave them illiterate in the language of being alive.