CuppaGemma

Can emotions pretend they are molecules?

It could be a neat riff to understand our feelings in terms of organic chemistry and as a table of elements. We could name, identify  and classify them. The periodic table of raw materials that comprises the gamut of how people feel.

Could we be so granular as to break out sections of emotions into elements and then build them up into larger and more complex structures?

Melancholy would have to be complex and have several metals. But what aspect of emotion could be like the noble gases? Happiness needs to fluoresce somehow.

If only it were that simple. A mixture of thoughts, new ideas can always be re-separated out- that’s exciting in the potential for recombination, a compound is a permanent commitment. And a super saturated solution- well maybe the affection ought not be that sweet?

But feelings, like words are stubborn and our wetlab studies will not identify nor explain them all away. That doesn’t stop us though from using the ideas in our language.

What does “with mixed emotion” really mean?

That phrase has always conjured up an image of being in Ingersoll Hall with something gurgling back from the glassware late in the afternoon. An undeniable precipitate when all the Prof wants to see is a clear solution. As though an aspect of feeling is sludgy and taints what is supposed to be the expected thought.

“You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you’re finished, you’ll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird… So let’s look at the bird and see what it’s doing — that’s what counts. I learned very early the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something.” Richard Feynman

Information in stacks and piles can clutter our heads with so much white noise we will forget the process of analyzing and understanding.

We won’t be able to figure what something is about, nor whether it is relevant to us or anyone else. We are like audio or video records that simply repeat the images that have been played in front of them.

Memorization of facts for facts sake have never impressed me. Perhaps at a pub in the evening it can make for frivolous banter and earn the accolade of another round, but what is known when you only can state data and information. That’s what we have libraries and resources for. Look it up, and double check your citation.

The challenge is to do something with bits of information more than recite it or put it in a pretty font and report.  What makes a magpie sing, and what sort of folks remember Heckle and Jeckle first?

My thirteen year old and I have had several heated discussions on this.

We share the same belief that simply reciting back data and putting in a different organized way is not a very compelling project. Neither to do nor to experience. It lacks both oomph and energy, but also has no way to sustain engagement.  Or in his words- “Who’s gonna care?”

This however does not excuse him from his social studies assignment. Indeed Mom and his teacher will care about incomplete work. He would much rather muck around and do some of Edison’s experiments than draw a life timeline and rewrite a bio.

“But mom, I want to DO stuff, not REWRITE stuff.” As far as he is concerned there is no building or mechanics when you work with words.

He makes the same point that I did (unsuccessfully) when I was a teenager- “If I know where to find it why do I have to bother to remember it?”

Isn’t the understanding how to get information and then doing something with it more important than say the ability to name every state flower?

Which sort of pushes the question, “So you don’t want me to think about it all or do something with it or be able use this all somehow, or even apply it to another conversation or an idea just memorize and rewrite it?”

That’s when we sigh together.

Well yes, for now.

Do the assignment on spec, be responsible and accountable as a seventh grader. Later on though we we sit  late at night- then tell me all about how your want to muck and think. What experiments you want to do or modify. That’s what we engage in and remember.

It’s about understanding.

“Yes in principle” is often a synonym for “no”.  Timothy Garton Ash

“Peace is a daily, a weekly, a monthly process, gradually changing opinions, slowly eroding old barriers, quietly building new structures.” John F. Kennedy

“Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.” Aldous Huxley

The neat thing about being a parent is the experience of raising children.

It is a role that teaches you responsibility. What’s the example you choose to set, and how do you help them to deal with the rolls and bumbles that come along? What do you make sure to keep them insulated from, and what do you expose them to?

The process that started with advice being given to a newly expectant mum continues as they tie their own shoes and try to make empassionate pitches for texting plans, later curfews or tap dance around uncompleted homework assignments.

Mom is term that once conferred means you have to in someway be always interruptable. It teaches you how to jigger a myriad of things at once, repeatedly, alternating speeds and show them that respect is mutally earned by having honest conversations back and forth.

Kids have voices and ideas. They want on some level to be both big and small. The boys were out in the yard over the weekend grilling ribs- as “the guys only” but went through the whole bag of marshmallows on skewer sticks when I suggested them. The frozen Mountain Dew ice pops were their own idea.

The relentless creativity coupled with their ongoing energy is what can make raising children why this mom at least makes sure that a large cup of coffee is a regular staple with which to start the day. It also has made me realize that you can work hard and go on and on to get things done.

On the most basic level being a mother means you have to show through your actions and your choices that “I believe in you” tempered with- “You need to think about what will happen if you do that…” So as a parent you sit in the evening with the boys and their friends and hear everybody’s stories. At the least you let them know that you are interested to know them and look at them as real people not large creatures full of mud with bottomless stomachs.

You talk with them about things. What’s happening in the news. Who’s got a new girlfriend? How can the dirtbike be re-outfitted?

The talking is what keeps and builds the relationship. They all get too big for “Because I said so” or fear based threats to demonstrate control. You need a way to reach out, connect and negotiate. As a mom you learn how to be collaborative and keep cooking more cutlets.