Toys for Teaching Love

Sometimes, when I'm bored, I like to buy a bunch of different brands of yogurt, then alternate eating spoonfuls of each so they can fight a culture war in my stomach.

I don't have a lot of context or commentary this time, just a bunch of collected, episodic content without connecting transitions.

A few months before Covid-19 hit I grabbed a bulk pack of toilet paper at Costco, in a hurry without paying too much attention. When I got home we discovered it was single ply and none of us liked it. I stuck the whole pack in the garage closet and we bought something nicer. Then the pandemic began, people started panic buying, and all the stores ran out of toilet paper. "Oh, well," we said when we ran out ourselves, "we have that stuff in the garage we can just start using." We got used to it and went with it indefinitely. Last week, over a year later, I just grabbed the last roll out of the closet. It's finally time to buy more.

I get my second dose of the vaccine tomorrow. After that I'll be mostly safe and much less anxious.

A recent conversation with my son, age 7:

Out of the blue: "I wonder if I'm going to live in this house or [Younger] (5) . . . "

"You mean when you're adults?"

"Yeah. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to have kids."

"You have a looong time before you have to decide that."

"I mean, kids are a big responsibility. Big. But I want [Younger] to have kids. The thing about being an uncle is you still get to have fun with the kids, but . . . "

"But you don't have to be around when things get hard?"

"Yeah. Hopefully [Younger] won't call me for help during the hard times."

My wife just posted this to our local Buy Nothing group on Facebook:

In search of spirited children. You know, the kind who don't listen, are crazy brilliant think-out-of-the-box kids that you can't take anywhere because they might break something? The ones that people say "why aren't you disciplining your kids" when actually you do and your kid reads/does math far above grade level? The kid that you turn your back for five minutes and they've turned your tree stump into a miniature water park for the insects while completely oblivious to the fact that they're covered from head to toe in mud and have broken half the gardening tools that you had locked up?  

If you have spirited kid, you know what I mean. You also know how crazy difficult it is to have a second playdate because the other parents are judging and think it will rub off on their kid. If you have one of these kids under the age of ten or 3rd grade (maybe a little older) and you want to meet up after May 14 when our vaccines are fully active, send me a PM.

Must be willing to accept that our older son likes his hair long and loves everything pink and sparkly.  Must also be willing to continue to mask. We are a high risk for complications household, so thanks for understanding.

We got the term "spirited" from the book  Raising Your Spirited Child: A Guide for Parents Whose Child is More Intense, Sensitive, Perceptive, Persistent, and Energetic by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka. There are many online communities based on it, including a Facebook group we're members of.

I love this.

"You have a lot of stuffed bears," he'd said, looking at her shelves.

"Oh, yeah," she said. "From my parents, when I was little. I used to love them."

"What are they for?" he said.

She looked at him. "For?"

"Yes."

"They're not for anything. They're just . . . toys. To--I don't know--hold. And you kind of pretend they're alive and look after them. When I was a kid, I had them all in my bed, like it was a big sleepover, and I would have tea parties with them."

He went over and picked up a small teddy. "We have nothing like this," he said. "Our toys are . . . *mechanical*, I think, is the correct word. To teach how things work."

"Like toy cars? Construction sets? We have those too," she'd said.

He looked into the eyes of the teddy. "But these are different," he said. He cocked his head to one side, appraising the bear. "This is a toy to teach love."

And this.

This moment.

This:

This was the best thing, in all her life.

Then, slowly, they drifted back down, and landed on the pebbles. Emily held him tight.

"Was that real?" she said.

"As anything," he answered.

She was cold; so was he. That was why he'd stopped, probably. But she still didn't go inside, not just yet. She held him, and she tried to hold the moment too: to capture the night and the view and the smell of pine in her mind and the snow--trying to fix it, so she could return to this moment in the future if she wanted to, this moment out of time. She held her eyes open, unblinking, and drew it all toward her, the water, the sky, the moon, the trees.

She closed her eyes. Already it was murky in her mind--a Polaroid of a Polaroid, the detail lost.

That was the thing: the world was beautiful, but you couldn't take it with you. Maybe that was why some people wanted to own bits of it, to have paper putting it in their names. But that was only a kind of delusion. You just had to stay in it, all the time, in the moment.

From Nowhere on Earth by Nick Lake. Description (from Goodreads):

16-year-old Emily is on the run. Between her parents and the trouble she's recently gotten into at school, she has more than enough reason to get away. But when she finds a little boy named Aidan wandering in the woods, she knows she needs to help him find his way home. But getting home is no easy matter, especially with Emily finds out that Aidan isn't even from Earth. When their plane crashes into the side of a snowy mountain, it's up to Emily to ensure Aidan and their pilot, Bob, make it off the mountain alive. Pursued by government forces who want to capture Aidan, the unlikely team of three trek across the freezing landscape, learning more about each other, and about life, than they ever thought possible.

My review:

Three stars for the plot, four stars for the execution. A fast-paced story of survival in the Alaskan wilderness, with dangers both natural and human. Vivid and tangible. Constantly surprising, unexpected, and thrilling, with just enough room for thoughtful moments, relationship building, and character growth. Gripping and satisfying.

I also wrote about Nick Lake in Circles & Speeches: Fiction Is Flowing Water and quoted him in The Creativity of Chaos.

One of my strong memories from seminary was the way our New Testament professor always emphasized that the biblical concept of resurrection was a bodily resurrection. It was not merely a soul or a spirit being freed from the body to go to Heaven. Indeed, the idea of a soul separate from the body was a Greek idea, foreign to the Hebrew tradition that birthed early Christianity. Jesus, Paul, and the writers of the bible had no concept of a soul without a body.

I'm always a bit agnostic about how strongly I believe, but if I don't I turn to science that also affirms there is no distinction, that consciousness is an entirely physical occurrence.

The Joy of Being Animal

Human exceptionalism is dead: for the sake of our own happiness and the planet we should embrace our true animal nature

The trouble for us is that this story – that we aren’t really our bodies but some special, separate ‘thing’ – has made a muddle of reality. Problems flow from the notion that we’re split between a superior human half and the inferior, mortal body of an animal. In short, we’ve come to believe that our bodies and their feelings are a lesser kind of existence. But what if we’re wrong? What if all parts of us, including our minds, are deeply biological, and our physical experiences are far more meaningful and richer than we’ve been willing to accept? . . . 

Today, our thinking has shifted along with scientific evidence, incorporating the genetic insights of the past century. We now know we’re animals, related to all other life on our planet. We’ve also learned much about cognition, including the uneasy separation between instinct and intention, and the investment of the whole body in thought and action. As such, we might expect attitudes to have changed. But that isn’t the case. We still live with the belief that humans, in some essential way, aren’t really animals. We still cling to the possibility that there’s something extrabiological that delivers us from the troubling state of being an organism trapped by flesh and death. . . . 

Unfortunately for us, this self-salience has left us with the bizarre sensation that who we really are is some kind of floating mind, our identity a kind of thinking, or rather, a thinking about thinking, rather than the whole feeling, sensing, sometimes instinctual colony of cells that makes up the entire unit of our animal being. Our selfhood gives rise to the sensation that we’re a thing trapped inside a body. And we can speculate that several things flow from this. We have a heightened awareness of the threats we face as animals – not least an awareness that we’ll die one day. As W B Yeats put it in his poem ‘Sailing to Byzantium’ (1928), we are ‘fastened to a dying animal’. And, because we feel as if we’re somehow more than our bodies, we’re reassured that we can escape the frightening limits of our flesh. In other words, our sensation of mental distinctiveness becomes our hope for salvation. . . . 

So why does this matter now? Nobody is denying that humans are exceptional. The concept of human uniqueness is only a problem when we deny the beauty and necessity both of our animal lives and the lives of other animals. No matter whether our origin stories tell us we’re possessors of spiritual properties or our courts tell us we’re ‘persons’ with dignity, we privilege the transcendent over the physical. The root word for ‘exception’ is the Latin excipere, which means ‘to take out’. We have always longed to be saved, to be ‘taken out’ from what we dislike or fear of our animal condition. But the pursuit of escape becomes more serious once we have powerful technologies to engineer and exploit biology.

These days, there is substantial investment in different technical routes to escape the limits or dangers of being animal, whether through DNA repair or stem-cell treatments or the transfer of more and more of ourselves to synthetic or machine forms. Google, Amazon and Elon Musk’s Neuralink are just three of the major corporations working in some of these areas. These are all part of a general trend to control and technologise more and more of our animal life. But, in seeking ways to enhance ourselves, people rarely acknowledge what we’d be leaving behind. As we start to use these new powers, it’s imperative that we dwell on what we stand to lose. The point here is not to argue that we ought to act as animals but rather that we are animals, and that a huge amount of the quality of our experience lies in a fully embodied animal life. . . . 

Far from being solely the product of our brains and self-direction, then, humans are intimately affected by their whole physical being and its environment. Some devastating evidence for this comes from the children of Romania’s orphanages, who were abandoned with little physical or sensory affection by the cruelties and excesses of the country’s leader Nicolae Ceaușescu’s regime. This neglect left them with lifelong struggles, extending to language delays and visual-spatial disruption. These are painful reminders that our ability to flourish and express ourselves is profoundly influenced by the way our bodies are treated and valued in the earliest stages of our lifecycle. . . . 

And this is to say nothing of what our denigration of being animal means for the other animals. . . . 

The more we learn about other animals, the more we recognise other experiences that ought to matter if, by this logic, our own do.

It might well be in the rallying of our own bodily resources that our greatest opportunities lie. When we reconsider all that we gain by being animals, we’re confronted by some powerful resources for positive change. Just think of the gobsmacking beauty of bonding. If you have a dog beside you as you read this, bend down, look into her eyes, and stroke her. Via the hypothalamus inside your body, oxytocin will get to work, and dopamine – organic chemicals implicated in animal bonding – and, before you know it, you’ll be feeling good, even in the dark times of a pandemic. And, as it happens, so will your dog, who will experience a similar physical response to the bond between you both. Oxytocin is produced in the hypothalamus of all mammals. In other words, our bodies might well be our best and most effective tool in the effort to strike a new balance between humans and the rest of the living world. If we can tip ourselves more into a bonding frame of mind, we might find it easier to recognise the beauty and intelligence that we’re hellbent on destroying. By accepting that we’re animals too, we create the opportunity to think about how we might play to the strengths of our evolutionary legacies in ways that we all stand to gain from. If we can build a better relationship with our own reality and, indeed, a better relationship with other animals, we’ll be on the road to recovery.

It was with all of this in mind that a year ago I spontaneously composed the poemish thoughts in One of My Favorite Words Is "Embody." Expressing that feeling that denies my beliefs above was part of the irony and paradox. I'll include the poem at the end of this post for easy reference.

Noblesse oblige - the inferred responsibility of privileged people to act with generosity and nobility toward those less privileged.

Research Proves It: There’s No Such Thing as Noblesse Oblige

What are the social and psychological ramifications of being on top of the economic food chain, of occupying positions of privilege? Wealth-related differences in attitudes and behavior are particularly important wherever the rich have an outsize sway over politics and policy. If, for instance, wealth makes people less compassionate, then a government that believes that the rich should behave in the interests of the populace may have to force them to do so. . . . 

Wealthy people are less likely than poor ones, in lab settings at least, to relate to the suffering of others. . . . 

If affluent people are less moved by the suffering of others, they should be less likely to help those in need, and this too seems to be true both in the lab and outside it. . . . 

These results “offer a potential new explanation for the muted policy response to increased income inequality in the United States,” the study authors wrote, because “the policymaking elite” are “far less inclined than is the general population to sacrifice efficiency to promote equality.” . . . 

Successful people tend to feel deserving of their lot. As a corollary, they tend to view less-fortunate people as having earned their lack of success. “So you’re more likely to make sense of inequality,” Piff explained, “to justify it, make inequality seem equitable.”

The psychologists Kraus and Keltner have found that people who rank themselves at the top of the social scale are significantly more likely to endorse essentialism, the notion that group characteristics are immutable and biologically determined—precisely the sort of beliefs used to justify the mistreatment of low-status groups such as immigrants and ethnic minorities. Countless studies, Kraus writes, point to an upper-class tendency toward “self-preservation.” That is, people who view themselves as superior in education, occupation, and assets are inclined to protect their group’s status at the expense of groups they deem less deserving: “These findings should call into question any beliefs in noblesse oblige—elevated rank does not appear to obligate wealthy individuals to do good for the benefit of society.”

A nice idea, but one not based on reality.

I wish politicians would never say "the American people believe/want/support" as though we are a completely homogeneous, unified whole and they represent everyone. It's never that simple.

Yes!

How you perceive others tells you as much about yourself as it does about them.

“What’s Wrong With This Person?”

When you inevitably get frustrated with someone today, remember this line from Anthony de Mello: “The question to ask is not, ‘What’s wrong with this person?’ but ‘What does this irritation tell me about myself?'” . . . 

We are complicit in the offense anytime someone hurts our feelings or makes us upset. We are choosing to react to something. We have to remember that. We have to remember that we have the power, not them, that it’s not the things they do that upset or offend us but our judgment about those things.

The irritant is never the other person. It’s always something within you.

And what we accuse others of are most often things we're guilty of--or at least tempted by--ourselves.

Three of us at work were tasked with coming up with a bonding activity of some sort for our combined small teams (12 people total, counting us). Virtual, of course. We found an idea online that required buying their prompts, so I came up with our own and adapted the instructions. Here's what we're doing tomorrow morning.

Group Supremacy

Your group is now in charge of the world, and you have 45 minutes to come up with a list of 10 new rules to inaugurate your tenure.

Don't worry about the most basic things like type of government or constitution; focus on topics that are easier to consider in a few moments but still open to debate. You can be as silly or as serious as you want--it's up to the group to decide; and determining the nature of your list might be the very first decision you have to make. Other things to consider include how you will narrow your list to 10 and how you will come to consensus. Your process is up to you.

Here are some potential topics you could use for your rules--but don't feel in any way confined to this list; they are merely suggestions to help spur your thinking and the only limits are your imaginations and your consensus:

• Either pancakes or waffles are going to be illegal, and your team has to make the choice.
• What unwritten rule should become an official rule?
• What would be the worst thing for your government to make illegal? Make a rule guaranteeing its legality.
• Should there be an official global language? Which one?
• Will you allow the unregulated development of artificial intelligence?
• Only cats or only dogs can be a legal pet; choose one.
• Should election day be a holiday?
• Are professional athletes overpaid, or is this simply a situation where highly skilled and scarce athletes are paid according to supply and demand?
• Toilet paper: over or under?
• Should there be any rules for advertisers? How about advertisements for children?
• As a means to combating obesity, will you enact a fat tax on fast food and other unhealthy foods?
• Should hot dogs (in buns) be considered a type of sandwich?
• As a way to curb drunk driving, should all cars have breathalyzer machines installed?
• Should standardized tests [SAT, ACT] continue to be used as a measurement of student achievement and an important part of the college admission process?
• The Oxford comma.
• Are video games too violent and/or sexually provocative?
• Can a doctor deny medical care to a patient who doesn’t have enough money?
• What are your opinions regarding beach-front property and private beaches? Should all beaches be public to allow access to the ocean, or do you believe that some beaches can be bought for private use?
• As a means to preventing terrorist activity, do you have a problem with the Federal government having access to your e-mail account, library records, and other personal information?
• Should it be illegal for wizards, fairies, unicorns, and other magical practitioners to hide their existence?
• Is it good policy for schools to ban the sale of soft drinks, candy, and other questionably nutritious snacks in order to promote better eating habits?
• Should the practice of physician-assisted suicide be allowed?
• Should animals be considered persons for legal purposes? Should they be given citizen status?
• Should plants be considered persons for legal purposes? Should they be given citizen status?
• Should Native American nicknames/mascots be banned from high school, college, and professional sports teams?
• Should drug companies be forced to limit the price of potentially life-saving drugs so the average person can afford them?
• Do you want to declare a state song/animal/plant/etc?
• Should all people have Universal Basic Income?
• Should sex work be legal?
• Should animal testing be banned?
• Should human cloning be legal?
• Plastic . . . 
• Do you want to have any rules about squirrels?
• Will you have universal healthcare?
• Should all people be vegetarians?
• Should birth control be for sale over the counter?
• Should people be legally required to get vaccines?
• Should every citizen be mandated to perform national public service?
• Should front yard flowers be mandatory?
• Should all drugs be legalized?

I have high hopes it's challenging, fun, and creates interesting interpersonal and group dynamics.

I used to be my body.

I inhabited it fully
is what I want to say
but that's not right--
it was not a vessel
that some essential "me"
occupied and filled;
there was no separation,
no distinction
between thoughts,
sensations,
and physical form.

No inner and outer.

My thoughts flowed most freely
when my body was in motion.
My deepest passions were felt--
not abstract emotions,
but physical experiences:
love as touch and sex;
joy as movement and play;
scent as memory and mood;
sound as thought in music--
poetic and emotional and
atmospheric and philosophical
and spiritual and playful--
not to mention connection:
communication with people,
communion with nature;
taste as pure indulgence.
The seat of my knowledge
was in my gut
my fingertips
the breath of my lungs.

I was in the world
and a part of the world.
I fit. I belonged.
One animal among many.

I was I
and
I was free.

Now, though--
time has happened,
age has happened,
not all at once,
I'm sure it must have been
gradual,
I didn't even know it was
happening,
only just realizing,
slowly coming to awareness,
suddenly able to articulate,
something has changed.

Now I feel captive.

I am something apart;
contained within
this thing I no longer know
except as an inconvenience,
a decrepit machine
that cuts me off from
life.

Even as my mind has grown,
my essence matured,
my confidence, capabilities,
comprehension increased,
my ability to partake
has dwindled.

Somewhere along the way
I lost my body.

Too much indulgence
and now I'm diabetic;
food has become sustenance
instead of pleasure.
Too much movement
and a knee surgery.
Obesity.
My kids say
Come, let us play
but I always say
Not today;
I'm too big,
too slow,
I hurt,
I'll get hurt,
not anymore,
you do it without me.
My son revels in
the pure joy of running;
something for which I yearn
that I'll never know again.
I've lost my sense of smell,
so no more mood or memory.
The doctor lists my conditions
on and on,
prescribes my medications
endlessly.

This thing that used to be me
has become an obstacle
rather than an expression.

Science says
my thoughts are physical processes,
chemistry and electricity,
that I am nothing without my
sensations and perceptions,
yet in the background, when
I wasn't paying attention,
my self-concept morphed
regardless,
and now I imagine myself
as a collection of formless
ideas floating in a void
trapped inside this
rusty vehicle,
forever reaching for--
and falling short of--
true connection.

I have become abstract.