Musings on Ultimate Reality, ethics, religion, social history, literature, media, and art
Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts
Friday, February 19, 2016
"Yearning and Learning": Science, Religion, and Fish Hooks
The skeptical science writer, Chet Raymo, wrote, “Why do so many of us see...flying saucers in the sky...
the spinning of the Sun at Fatima,
canals on Mars?"
19th century image of canals of Mars versus modern Hubble photo
"We yearn to be part of something greater than ourselves. We learn by hard experience that miracles don't happen."
"Yearning and learning are integral parts of being human. We can't be fully human without both. Finding the proper balance between yearning and learning can keep us occupied for a lifetime."
"Yearning is curiosity. Yearning is the driving force of science, philosophy, and religion."
"Learning is...reading, going to school, traveling, doing experiments, being skeptical. Learning is looking behind the curtain for the Wizard of Oz..."
"In science, learning means trying as hard to prove that something is wrong as to prove it right, even if that something is a cherished belief."
"Yearning without learning is seeing...the fossilized footprints of humans and dinosaurs together in ancient rocks, weeping statues...and the meaning of life in horoscopes."
"Learning without yearning is pedantry...believing that we know it all...that nothing exists except what can be presently weighed and measured. Learning without yearning is rote science without a heart, without a dream, without a hope of beauty.”
--
A true story of a family, yearning and learning--
The Nature of Fishhooks
My youngest daughter, Hope, learned-disabled early,
Struggling with the squiggles and numeric symbols
Of unseen realities, of knowing, that set the stars
In motion and our human minds in transition.
How dangerous those fish-hooked praying supplications
Her childish zest died while, as her father and provider,
I practiced disabling late, raised to belief's unreason
In the rigid way of Huck's Miss Watson, so stubborn
In righteous doctrine, ignoring our doctor's suggestion,
Not giving Hope medication, but certain in literal petition.
How dangerous those fish-hooked praying supplications
So I prayed time-round-the-three for my daughter's minded healing,
But just like gullible Finn and his never-gotten fishhooks,
Hope got none, and I— doubt, ill-gotten mishap, and bilge,
Eventually lessening into cynicism, the wounded death
Of an ash-filled, but empty-petitioning/requesting mouth.
How dangerous those fish-hooked praying supplications
Yet unlike Huck, to this day I keep reeling out petitions,
Focusing like the Widow (Huck's other guardian),
On heartened prayer, the learning of spiritual gifts;
But not even the gentle fish lures of patience
And boundless joy ever ripple my faithless way;
I, too, become the lost orphan in the dying of trust.
How dangerous those fish-hooked praying supplications
No longer a fisher of miracles in the doubtful churning,
Of the endless surging views of oceans seven
The world round, I struggle between trust
And reason, earnest but lost in cruel confusion
Fearing those extremes — nihilistic negation
And fishy delusion — doubting all to a hellish end.
How dangerous those fish-hooked praying supplications
Still rises the good news of caring medicine:
Briefly free of false hooks, we gave our dear Hope,
So dead to minded school, the late prescription
And she was upward raised, yes, recovering soon
A zest for learning — early for her, way late for me –
How wondrous thoughtful reason-decided invocations
Except to say the real hook of it all is that
True knowing is not gulping barbs of pious deceit,
Nor being gilled or gulled into the dying of truth,
But yearning and learning — like Descartes and Kant
Of old — finding in humble, reasoned trust
The poetry and prose of spiritual growth,
A Godly way of reasoned becoming,
How wondrous thoughtful reason-based deliberations
--Daniel Wilcox
First published in The Centrifugal Eye
then in the collection, Psalms, Yawps, and Howls
Chet Raymo:
Professor Emeritus at Stonehill College in North Easton, Massachusetts...author of Skeptics and True Believers
"...more than a dozen books on science and nature...is a winner of a 1998 Lannan Literary Award for his nonfiction..."
Science Musings appeared in the Boston Globe for twenty years...informed and provocative meditations on science as a creative human activity and celebrated the grandeur and mystery of the natural world."
"Blog.sciencemusings.com...will appeal to visitors who value reliable empirical knowledge of the world, yet retain a sense of reverence and awe for the complexity, beauty, and sometimes terror of nature."
--
From Huck Finn:
“Well I got a good going-over in the morning from old Miss Watson on account of my clothes; but the widow she didn't scold, but only cleaned off the grease and clay, and looked so sorry that I thought I would behave awhile if I could. Then Miss Watson she took me in the closet and prayed, but nothing come of it."
"She told me to pray every day, and whatever I asked for I would get it. But it warn't so I tried it. Once I got a fish-line, but no hooks. It warn't any good to me without hooks."
"I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I couldn't make it work. By and by, one day, I asked Miss Watson to try for me, but she said I was a fool. She never told me why, and I couldn't make it out no way."
"I set down one time back in the woods, and had a long think about it. I says to myself, if a body can get anything they pray for...why can't the widow get back her silver snuffbox that was stole? Why can't Miss Watson fat up?"
"No, says I to myself, there ain't nothing in it. I went and told the widow about it, and she said the thing a body could get by praying for it was "spiritual gifts." This was too many for me, but she told me what she meant -- I must help other people, and do everything I could for other people, and look out for them all the time, and never think about myself."
"This was including Miss Watson, as I took it. I went out in the woods and turned it over in my mind a long time, but I couldn't see no advantage about it -- except for the other people; so at last I reckoned I wouldn't worry about it any more, but just let it go."
"Sometimes the widow would take me one side and talk about Providence in a way to make a body's mouth water; but maybe next day Miss Watson would take hold and knock it all down again."
"I judged I could see that there was two Providences, and a poor chap would stand considerable show with the widow's Providence, but if Miss Watson's got him there warn't no help for him any more."
"I thought it all out, and reckoned I would belong to the widow's if he wanted me, though I couldn't make out how he was a-going to be any better off then than what he was before, seeing I was so ignorant, and so kind of low-down and ornery.”
Wise words of yearning and learning from
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Samuel L. Clemens
--
In the Light
of Hope and Reason,
Yearning and Learning,
Trust and Skepticism,
Ideals and Science,
Imagination and Fact...
Daniel Wilcox
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Thursday, October 29, 2015
Abortion and Immigration: A Different Quakerly Take
First, look at and reflect on two situations (If you already know a lot about the controversies and dislike poems, skip half way down to the Take):
El Paso
The chubby woman in a blue Pontiac
Jerked up alongside our country's curb
Where members of a silent vigil stepped
Placarding decision avenue.
One protestor crossed our line,
To ask her what she needed.
Bordering near to hysterical, she yelled,
"You're wrong!" her face taut and
Yanked back from the cleft.
With drowning eyes, she shouted,
"I wish I'd never been born."
So much for 'boarders'
And backwards wet with rivers.
Then she jammed her shift into gear
And sped away, not even glancing
At the clambered wall or
Down
At her remaining child
Ensconced next to her,
Missing her seatbelt.
-First pub. in Unlikely Stories
--
A poem created from New York's news, from the persona of a girl, lost but then...
The Daughter's Return
Behind the Purple People Eater
Down on the Lower East Side
From the Garden, I smoked
And tried to calm myself.
Turning and turning and turning...
A high school female so mature
For my age, I had used a false I.D.
And entered the rock club
With several gal friends.
Turning and turning and turning...
I looked at chipped nail polish
on my thumb and flicked ashes
Down to the icy pavement,
Disappearing into
Turning and turning and turning...
The grimy snow shoved
Against the brick building by some
Janitor. Ice glistened from a blue
Light above the club's alley door.
Turning and turning and turning...
I clenched up--another painful after
Contraction, and hugged my loose skirt,
Aching and still disoriented
From earlier when I had washed
Turning and turning and turning...
Off the blood in the small porcelain
Sink in the empty lady's room,
After disposing of my underwear
And my wet jacket, I had sat on
Turning and turning and turning...
Leaning against the beige stall
Shoving and shoving.
But now I flicked the butt
In the snow and pushed past
Turning and turning and turning...
The squat cook in the tiny kitchenette
And through the girls' door again,
Leaned into the mirror on the wall
And applied heavy shadow
Turning and turning and turning...
Around my wandering eyes,
Straightened my skimpy skirt,
Stared in the mirror for more
Moments, then undid another
Turning and turning and turning...
Button on my navy blue blouse.
I sprayed a dash of Estee Lauder
On my sweated body and shoved
Through the door but thought of--
Turning and turning and turning...
Baby of mine, now hidden,
Stashed in the Giants' jacket
Shoved far down in back
In the trash dumpster.
Turning and turning and turning...
I blinked, clinched my fingers,
But licked my lips and then sauntered
Back into the darkened club
Where gyrating flesh
Turning and turning and turning...
Channeled the crashing drums,
And I scanned the sensed mesh
Of moving flashed skin
Prodding for a night man.
Turning and turning and turning...
That's when I slumped down
Collapsing to the floor
Only to wake later
Turning in...
The Hospice of the Virgin.
-First pub. in Word Riot
Usually, when people discuss or debate the topics of anti-abortion versus pro-abortion and anti-immigration versus pro-immigration, the huge emphasis is on religion, politics, science and economics and the opposition. Which is okay; actually not because it becomes so ideological.
Those long complex contrary explanations and debates are understandable. But given how much insufferable heat and harm they cause, and how little light gets shown (now and in the past), it seems unlikely they have really helped women, infants, poor Americans and immigrants.
Consider a different perspective, A DIFFERENT TAKE:
How about all of us humans look at abortion and anti-immigration from the standpoint of Friendly ethical truths--generosity, empathy, compassion, and non-violence?
Would this not be a discussion changer?
No longer would these two scalding potatoes be divisive, all about “OUR” rights (mothers who want to abort and Americans who want to keep immigrants out) versus the needs of others (unwanted fetuses and illegal immigrants).
Nor would scientific facts or economic factors or theological claims have much of a show.
Let’s skip the much debated argument about whether a human at conception has a “soul.”
Let’s also skip the economic/political belief whether or not an invisible border between countries is real. Often, of course, nationalists make it visible with a high wall or security fence. Check out the U.S. El Paso border with Cuidad Juarez, Mexico or Israel's with Palestine.
How would a generous person, a compassionate person, a non-violent person deal with the unwanted fetus and the suffering mom, the unwanted illegal alien and the suffering out-of-work American who worries others (from elsewhere) will take away his job?
And don’t speak of murdering pre-born infants. Many of the aborted are barely out of the cell stage. According to Planned Parenthood, "64.5 percent take place within the first eight weeks" of pregnancy.
10 weeks
On the other hand, pregnancies aren’t “unwanted tissue” like some pro-abortionists claim. Brain waves start in about the 6th week. By 7 weeks, it will be able to open and close its fist and already can grasp an object! Sucking the thumb has been documented at about 7 weeks, too. She/he will soon be squinting, frowning, and grimacing with his/her face.
Again, think about my central point:
How about we look at abortion by a pregnant woman from the perspective of generosity, empathy, compassion, and non-violence?
How about we stop using pregnancy as a political football and return the controversial topic to the doctor and the pregnant woman?
How about we look at immigration from the standpoint of generosity, empathy, compassion, non-violence?
Would this be a discussion changer?
In the Light,
Daniel Wilcox
El Paso
The chubby woman in a blue Pontiac
Jerked up alongside our country's curb
Where members of a silent vigil stepped
Placarding decision avenue.
One protestor crossed our line,
To ask her what she needed.
Bordering near to hysterical, she yelled,
"You're wrong!" her face taut and
Yanked back from the cleft.
With drowning eyes, she shouted,
"I wish I'd never been born."
So much for 'boarders'
And backwards wet with rivers.
Then she jammed her shift into gear
And sped away, not even glancing
At the clambered wall or
Down
At her remaining child
Ensconced next to her,
Missing her seatbelt.
-First pub. in Unlikely Stories
--
A poem created from New York's news, from the persona of a girl, lost but then...
The Daughter's Return
Behind the Purple People Eater
Down on the Lower East Side
From the Garden, I smoked
And tried to calm myself.
Turning and turning and turning...
A high school female so mature
For my age, I had used a false I.D.
And entered the rock club
With several gal friends.
Turning and turning and turning...
I looked at chipped nail polish
on my thumb and flicked ashes
Down to the icy pavement,
Disappearing into
Turning and turning and turning...
The grimy snow shoved
Against the brick building by some
Janitor. Ice glistened from a blue
Light above the club's alley door.
Turning and turning and turning...
I clenched up--another painful after
Contraction, and hugged my loose skirt,
Aching and still disoriented
From earlier when I had washed
Turning and turning and turning...
Off the blood in the small porcelain
Sink in the empty lady's room,
After disposing of my underwear
And my wet jacket, I had sat on
Turning and turning and turning...
Leaning against the beige stall
Shoving and shoving.
But now I flicked the butt
In the snow and pushed past
Turning and turning and turning...
The squat cook in the tiny kitchenette
And through the girls' door again,
Leaned into the mirror on the wall
And applied heavy shadow
Turning and turning and turning...
Around my wandering eyes,
Straightened my skimpy skirt,
Stared in the mirror for more
Moments, then undid another
Turning and turning and turning...
Button on my navy blue blouse.
I sprayed a dash of Estee Lauder
On my sweated body and shoved
Through the door but thought of--
Turning and turning and turning...
Baby of mine, now hidden,
Stashed in the Giants' jacket
Shoved far down in back
In the trash dumpster.
Turning and turning and turning...
I blinked, clinched my fingers,
But licked my lips and then sauntered
Back into the darkened club
Where gyrating flesh
Turning and turning and turning...
Channeled the crashing drums,
And I scanned the sensed mesh
Of moving flashed skin
Prodding for a night man.
Turning and turning and turning...
That's when I slumped down
Collapsing to the floor
Only to wake later
Turning in...
The Hospice of the Virgin.
-First pub. in Word Riot
Usually, when people discuss or debate the topics of anti-abortion versus pro-abortion and anti-immigration versus pro-immigration, the huge emphasis is on religion, politics, science and economics and the opposition. Which is okay; actually not because it becomes so ideological.
Those long complex contrary explanations and debates are understandable. But given how much insufferable heat and harm they cause, and how little light gets shown (now and in the past), it seems unlikely they have really helped women, infants, poor Americans and immigrants.
Consider a different perspective, A DIFFERENT TAKE:
How about all of us humans look at abortion and anti-immigration from the standpoint of Friendly ethical truths--generosity, empathy, compassion, and non-violence?
Would this not be a discussion changer?
No longer would these two scalding potatoes be divisive, all about “OUR” rights (mothers who want to abort and Americans who want to keep immigrants out) versus the needs of others (unwanted fetuses and illegal immigrants).
Nor would scientific facts or economic factors or theological claims have much of a show.
Let’s skip the much debated argument about whether a human at conception has a “soul.”
Let’s also skip the economic/political belief whether or not an invisible border between countries is real. Often, of course, nationalists make it visible with a high wall or security fence. Check out the U.S. El Paso border with Cuidad Juarez, Mexico or Israel's with Palestine.
How would a generous person, a compassionate person, a non-violent person deal with the unwanted fetus and the suffering mom, the unwanted illegal alien and the suffering out-of-work American who worries others (from elsewhere) will take away his job?
And don’t speak of murdering pre-born infants. Many of the aborted are barely out of the cell stage. According to Planned Parenthood, "64.5 percent take place within the first eight weeks" of pregnancy.
10 weeks
On the other hand, pregnancies aren’t “unwanted tissue” like some pro-abortionists claim. Brain waves start in about the 6th week. By 7 weeks, it will be able to open and close its fist and already can grasp an object! Sucking the thumb has been documented at about 7 weeks, too. She/he will soon be squinting, frowning, and grimacing with his/her face.
Again, think about my central point:
How about we look at abortion by a pregnant woman from the perspective of generosity, empathy, compassion, and non-violence?
How about we stop using pregnancy as a political football and return the controversial topic to the doctor and the pregnant woman?
How about we look at immigration from the standpoint of generosity, empathy, compassion, non-violence?
Would this be a discussion changer?
In the Light,
Daniel Wilcox
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