Toddler-think

Toddlerhood does not necessarily end at a particular age, but we can recognize them by certain signs and behaviors.



TODDLER’S RULES OF POSSESSION

  1. If I like it, it’s mine.
  2. If it’s in my hand, it’s mine.
  3. If I can take it from you, it’s mine.
  4. If I had it a while ago, it’s mine.
  5. If it’s mine, it must NEVER appear to be yours in any way.
  6. If I’m doing or building something, all the pieces are mine.
  7. If it looks just like mine, it’s mine.
  8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.
  9. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it automatically becomes mine.
  10. If it’s broken, it’s yours.

    (author unknown)

Out-of-Hand, Out-of-Mind, Out-of-Existence

  1. When it leaves my hand, it leaves the world.
  2. When it leaves your hand, if I don’t want it, it becomes a mess and you should get it out of my way.

Good and Evil/Rules

  1. If it runs contrary to my expectations and desires, it is evil.
  2. If it upsets me, it is evil.
  3. My rules are good, your rules are evil.
  4. If it breaks my rules, it is evil.
  5. If I break your rules, it is good.
  6. If I am held accountable for breaking your rules, it is evil.
  7. If I am mean to you, it is good.
  8. If you are mean to me, it is evil.


You are welcome to add more Toddler-Think lists in the comments–I am sure there are many I have missed.

Cleaning Up Our Mess

The world is in such a mess!

It has always been messy, that’s nature, but mostly, prehistorically, when everyone lived in Jurassic Park, messes were local business: some moments of violence followed by inelegant feeding, and plenty of scavengers to clean up after. Humankind, we don’t confine our messiness to moments or a limited area, we spread it far and wide, and it never seems to end. But in those times, we didn’t have the reach we have now.

I’m writing now about a particular element of the human mess: our propensity for deadly conflict. Is it biological, rooted deep in our DNA? Is violent territoriality hard-wired into Homo sapiens, as it appears to be in other primates? If that were so, then we could not choose otherwise. But we can. Many don’t, but every human being has the potential to make choices, to choose not to go with what comes automatically. We abandoned Eden so that we could make our own choices.

It has been said that we are here in this world to learn how to make successful choices. We are designed to observe and interpret, to explain, to understand, to decide, to believe. We feel, too, and that certainly colors what we decide about what we’ve observed, and what we do with the information we believe we’ve pinned down about Reality.

If we all saw clearly, and really did grasp Reality, there would be a lot less to fight over. But we don’t. We could, but we don’t. It isn’t what we choose. Yet.

Perceptual Filters and Paradigms

Reality happens. Right there in front of us, it happens, and we see it happening. If anyone asks, we can tell them what we saw happen. But can we tell them what happened?

Probably not—because we are not allowed to see what really happens: Our own minds don’t let us.

Everything we observe of reality comes to our consciousness through the filters we have set in our subconscious to interpret for us, to make sense of the world according to our experience and expectations.

Paradigms are a kind of perceptual filter: a template, a set of rules, a collection of beliefs about the world and all, that helps us define our own reality. It is a shortcut.

It is a great time-saver to sieve stimuli through a set of beliefs about How Things Are—established beliefs about Reality—to organize and interpret, to understand where things fit in Reality. Of course, it isn’t absolute Reality, but personal reality we are thusly defining.

The trouble comes not just from not knowing the difference, but from not even realizing that there is one.

  • We don’t see what we don’t want to be true.
  • We see what we’re looking for.
  • We reject what doesn’t fit through our filters.
  • We seek to explain rather than to understand.

Mystic Whispers: On the Half Shell

Out of the sea on rising foam
Venus emerges,
makes herself at home,

and the Gods all pause a moment to look
and admire and plan…
and their canny brains cook…

The Goddesses, too– they look and they see
a sister to them
and a rival-to-be…

For the proper attentions, there must always be,
to Wisdom, and 
to Fidelity.

And Discord smiles to see this birth:
Her job’s secure
forever on Earth!

CL Redding 2005

ReUse, ReImagine, RePurpose

SOLVING THE PROBLEM OF PLASTIC

I save things that are not useless–though today I did unfriend and block a person on Facebook. I have bags and boxes loaded with medication bottles, protein supplement drink bottles, the big plastic flasks from cold brew coffee concentrate… Egg cartons, lots of egg cartons of the old paper kind and those clear, tri-fold ones that are so useful if you do egg art for the holidays! Large clear plastic bakery boxes that make excellent green-houses for starting seeds… plastic plates from microwave meals that are very useful water catchers under potted plants…  tubes from paper towels and toilet tissue, and those narrow, sturdy ones from aluminum foil boxes… And have you ever noticed that the cutting edge from a foil box can be very handy in a tool kit?

I will never use all this stuff for crafts or anything, but someone might. I hear that on ebay one can sell such stuff for surprising amounts of actual money. And there is a local crafting/recycling store where one can trade in just about anything for credit towards stuff one actually does have a use for. 

So, from today, each type of such stuff has an accessible receptical to itself, and a day will come when I actually get around to which ever next stage seems best. 

The key to reducing plastic waste in the environment is to find new uses for it, to never let it get back into the waste disposal system. Plastic is not as big a problem as our own carelessness and indifference to what happens to things we toss out of our immediate space and consciousness.

The Downs Child

Some years ago I saw a drawing of a Downs child and began to consider my own thoughts and feelings about how I regarded such children, what it would be like to be the parent of one of these special people. These two poems came out of those ponderings.

SLOW

So steady and intent your gaze
staring at me as my patience frays…
So long it takes to tell you anything,
to watch you process what the world brings.

You don’t know, not yet at any rate, 
my anger and dismay at this, our fate:
Yours, to struggle just to comprehend;
mine, the same, it comes to in the end.

But then–for nothing that I see, you laugh!
The throaty coo and giggle whole, not half–
not half-a-child, in your pure delight;
Your chuckle bursts into my guilty night.

It’s I, not you, that must adjust my pace–
relax, remembering it’s not a race!
I teach your mind what you will need to know;
You teach my heart, where I’m a little slow. 

OH, CHILD!

I am tempted
to be so sad
for you…
Grieving for 
your limitations,
for how the world
will pity
and neglect
and scorn…

And yet–
I see the fierceness
in your gaze:
Intent
to understand
whatever mystery
lies there before you
veiled…

How you 
would scorn my pity
this
and every day!

Pinning Down ‘God’

PART ONE: DISTINGUISHING RELIGION FROM SPIRITUALITY

It has been said that there are as many recipes for borscht as there are Russians. Of course, borscht is a matter of personal taste, and only really important to beet fanciers. If there are any wars fought over which borscht is best, they are probably very small, and go unnoticed in the world at large.

Religion is not quite such a local phenomenon.

Differing definitions of gods or ‘God’ have moved vast armies across the face of the world, generated suffering and grief, have driven uncountable numbers of people away from the very idea of certain definitions of ‘God.’ People have justified terrible things in support of their meaning of ‘God.’

Any useful discussion on the topic requires defining of terms, just so that those involved can be sure of discussing the same thing: Assumptions are the seeds of war!

My simple definition of ‘religion’ is that which is the packaging of spiritual information. It is the body of the spirit of connection with the Divine. As a body, a religion fears its own extinction, it strives for its own advantage, it reads its power from the numbers of its followers from whom it gathers in what it needs to survive in the temporal/physical world. These needs range from money to buildings to bodies. The power of a religion to control resources–like followers–is generally based in the fear/love spectrum.

Spiritual revelation is the content of that packaging. Revelation… understanding… epiphany… all are part of what the package dresses itself up for. But all the glitz and awe and pageantry that go into attracting followers, especially followers not informed enough in their lives to see deeper than surfaces, creates a body of followers who are so distracted and cheered by the packaging and never take note of the content.

Religion is also a tool of spiritual revelation, once it gets past its own survival issues. The rituals and words serve to help all those body-bound followers–people used to seeing themselves only as physical beings–to experience the realness of spirit. It is by way of entrancement that we shift from a body-consciousness to something higher.

Entrancement is that state in which we engage with a good book or a movie, losing our sense of self, of time passing in order to ‘be’ in the story. It is a kind of hypnosis that we experience when our thoughts extend beyond whatever is happening in the immediate world around us–as when we are driving, or sitting in a boring meeting. It is a dream state-of-consciousness, whether simple distraction or deep sleep dreaming.

Trance is induced by simple things. For instance, information suggested to the senses, or to the part of the mind that processes senses: when more than three senses are given information to work with, the mind believes.

Trance comes out of numbing of the feelings, too: giving the sense-mind more than it can process. Babies, when overstimulated, fall asleep. Boring the mind also works: Chanting uses both tone and repetition–repetition of tones moves the mind right on out of its body-consciousness.

The incense, the chant, the liturgy, the motions, the surroundings are all controlled to make that happen, to allow people who only know themselves as physical can feel that disembodied reality. For some, this is a doorway to a truly spiritual experience. For many, it is what they learn to identify as spiritual experience. These are the ones who celebrate the packaging as the Truth. They absorb the teachings of their particular religion as Truth, with no application of critical thought, while those who went through that doorway, who transcended the packaging, tend to see beyond the packaging, become aware of the false advertising, the vanities of the lures and promises.

When a religion is deliberately built to create followers, to build wealth and power, the tactics are the same, but there is no content. There will be the suggestion, some sort of construct meant to look like spiritual content, but it is all part of the control strategy. This is my definition of a cult.

Mueller testifies…

What the House Judiciary Committee members don’t seem to understand is that Americans watching are not only listening to the answers, we are paying close attention to the questioners and the kinds of questions they ask, their manipulative maneuvers, their willingness to actually listen to Mueller. He is not the one being judged here by Americans who think.

Agendas are revealed in this process, and there were no surprises there: Dems went after underlining the Mueller Report’s findings that point to misconduct of the President; Reps tried contorted and confusing questions to damage Mueller’s credibility. They all asked, over and over, questions their fellows had asked already, and they got no new answers.

One thing I don’t understand is how the Dept of Justice (Barr under direction from Trump) requiring Mueller to stay strictly within the limits they have defined as to the scope of what the Committee can ask and have answered, is not just another occurrence of obstruction of justice, as witness tampering.

In any case, he didn’t answer many questions, being so bound. Essentially, all he said was, “Read my report.”

I point out that in the matter of impeachment, the House of Representatives can only impeach, and that to remove the President from office requires the Senate to accept the recommendation to take the President to trial. With the current Republican leadership in the Senate–Mitch McConnell–that will never happen. But if even one Republican of conscience, integrity, and true patriotism walked away from the Republican Party, McConnell would have no power to stop the process.

Understand, please, that I am not a Democrat, and find much of what they have done as a Party that puts itself above the interests of Americans, is as indefensible as what the Republicans do. It is a disgusting affair on all sides, but that’s the game of politics, and has always been. But the Democrats generally support accountability by rule of law, while the Republicans support the Republican Agenda at all costs. This was apparent in today’s proceedings, as it has been in Congressional proceedings since the Obama Presidency.

It comes down to the problem not merely of Party, but of what people think America is about. Some think it is about creating and supporting opportunity for all Americans, including those who come here as immigrants to participate in the American system, and become Americans themselves. Others think it is about creating and supporting opportunity for the already-successful to increase their success, wealth, and power to uncapped heights.

I get great encouragement from the coming-up generation of voters who could, if they all vote, make all the difference on the next Election Day.

I

The Damaged Heart

I’m sorry, 
I can’t love you
like a love should be…
Out here I stand
beyond the glass, 
the wall of distance
between my heart 
and the world…

Love’s such
a quiet subtle thing
so easily drowned out
by need and want
and hungers wailing
from a time–
the time when children
learn to love
by being loved.

I’m sorry
my missing pieces
make this puzzle
that is love
forever incomplete…
Yet I want to love, 
you are so very dear
although my heart is mute
and broken…

I know love
is something like
the yearning
crouched in here…
I wish, I wish, I wish 
that I could feel
all that I know is true.
I wish that I could give you
all that you should have from me
without the firewalls
that make my space
a seeming safer place.

I cherish you
as I have always done
I want to know
that this is enough 
for you to understand
all that you are to me.
I would not have
your heart, your love be broken, too.

CL Redding 2015

They’re at it again…

I know by the husky, come-hither cooing that the Eurasian Collared Doves are once more wooing…

Three years ago, they discovered on the covered deck of my house, afixed to the boxy light fixture by the sliding door, a disused robin’s nest. Not as large as a dove’s nest ought to be, but a nest. So they laid a couple of eggs in it, and raised a brood of two, as Eurasian Collared Doves do. I took pictures of the nest, the eggs, the hatchlings… Eventually, the little ones flew.

As that time approached, we had one of those fiercely windy days this area is prone to, and I worried some about them being literally blown away to the next roof over. I put up a wall of reeds around that end of the deck, and around the front of it, to catch any little bird blown out of the nest. In fact, they were getting so big, they could only rest one atop the other in the nest. In my anxiety, I put some hay in a small basket and shifted them to it, They were not impressed, not by the new nest, not by my gentle handling.

They didn’t blow away, as it turned out, and the winds died down, and the dovelings soon flew by their own power out into the world. And that was that. I cleaned up the area they’d taken over, and moved back into that end of the deck. I missed them a little.

The next year, the parents were back, and again, set two eggs in the little nest. Again, they owned my deck for the 4-5 weeks it takes from egg to flight.

This year, they started early, but the old nest was simply not adequate. They always add a few twigs before setting eggs, and so it became smaller and smaller. The first attempt was a failure, one hatchling fell from the nest, the second egg never hatched.

My son and I had made a bigger nest for them, in fact–a cone-shaped garden basket–and hung it in a corner of the deck further from my door and interference, and still tucked up under the protective roof of the deck. It is in a corner where one or the other had often tucked itself up on a precarious perch.

After that first failure, they occupied the new nest and made it theirs.

They have raised now two broods in that nest since spring, and are currently weaving in new twigs in preparation for the next. Apparently, there is no brief breeding season for Eurasian Collared Doves: they have been observed to raise 4 or more broods over a summer, as many as 6.

I now share the deck, and they have somewhat accepted my puttering about, watering plants and shifting the garden about. I keep the cat indoors when the fledglings begin to consider leaving the nest, and take my photos from a little distance away. They are less wary of me than they were.

Visit them here: https://flic.kr/s/aHskVKMjrb

Orcas and Others in the Wild

There seems to be a correlation between the state of emotions of the observer and the proximity of whales.  I learned this years ago, when I was observing the wild whales and dolphins in the inland passage between Vancouver Island and the mainland of British Columbia.    

In the wild, orcas simply did not come around or come close when the observer was angry, upset, frustrated, unhappy…  When the same observer was calm and happy, the whales did come around.  I spent 5 weeks one summer in a very angsty time of my life perched on a rocky bit of a small, uninhabited island in view of the northern end of Vancouver Island. There was at least one pod of orcas that spent a lot of time in that area. But they didn’t approach our location during the day. The only time any of the resident orcas came near was at night when we were sleeping. 

Several nights, we were visited by a youngster and a larger one, who came into the cove alongside our campsite. It was as if they were exploring, cruising along the coast. Once, waking to the distinctive sound of their breathing, I leaped up and ran out to the end of the rock just in time to see them go by. The rock was a big round boulder that offered no gentle incline into the water, but just dived straight down into the bottom, maybe 30 feet deep. The water was crystal clear, and in daylight we could see to the bottom, to see the sea cucumbers, and giant urchins moving across the rocks and sand.

That night it was very dark, and I could not actually see the whales.  But the phosphorescence in the water lit up briefly, disturbed by their passage.  Just as I got to the edge of the rock, the small one came up right there, blew, and departed, a spectral-blue ghost in the water, a comet of fading phosphorescence following its passage.  It was maybe 5 feet from where I stood. 

Even 45 years later, it is one of the most magical moments of my life!