Author: Mary

I am a recently retired college professor. Up until June 2012 I taught human behavior and the social environment, social justice and human rights at Monmouth University, in the school of social work. My great joys are reading and telling stories! Reading and thinking about the meaning and implications of what is written. Good literature has the potential of alchemy! of social change toward a world where social and economic justice is respected and where human rights are celebrated.

Cape Cod Dreams and Memes and Change

On By MaryIn change, growth into humanity, vision and perspectiveLeave a comment

Cape Cod is a most wondrous place. September arrives and graces the soft sands of the Cape’s endless shores, and while so many others have returned home to work and school, I remain, reading and napping and bearing witness to the day’s gentle surf and warm breezes.

As I nap, I read Paulo Coelho’s “Manuscript Found in Accra” 

in the cycle of nature there is no such thing as victory or defeat; there is only movement.

The winter struggles to reign supreme, but in the end is obliged to accept spring’s victory, which brings with it flowers and happiness. The summer would like to make its warms days last forever, because it believes that warmth is good for the Earth. But in the end, it has to accept the arrival of autumn, which will allow the Earth to rest. . . .

Within that cycle there are neither winners nor losers’ there are only stages that must be gone through. When the human heart understands this, it is free and able to accept difficult times without being deceived by moments of glory. Both will pass. One will succeed the other. And the cycle will continue until we liberate ourselves from the flesh and find the Divine Energy.

And the cycles will continue until we find enlightenment, eternal rest, nirvana, moksha, until we find that for which we search. But as human’s we seem destined to search, even if it is for justice and rights, for fairness and dignity, the search goes on. We are creatures on a pilgrimage, a path. Perhaps it is not that we are strangers in a strange land, but pilgrims on a pilgrimage. For us humans, the journey is home. Lots of folks have plotted the shape and direction of that path. And, it is important to know where you are going – otherwise, how will you know when you get there? One of my favorites path tracers is a largely unsung fellow named Clare Graves who wrote about memes that mark the flow of human and cultural growth.

Now, meme (pronounced meem) is a fun kind of word that is not (yet) part of the common daily verbal lexicon.  It was probably coined by Richard Dawkins in his book “the Selfish Gene” as a concept useful for explaining the spread of ideas and cultural phenomena. So, a meme could be a melody, catch-phrase, fashion, idea, symbol or practice that is spread from mind to mind through writing, speech, gestures, rituals or other ways of being that we can imitate. Meme’s self-replicate, mutate and respond to pressures.

 Clare Graves wrote about eight memes or themes for existence that human beings and cultures seem to embrace and develop as we move in the world. For Graves, each meme is essential and important and is incorporated and integrated into the ones that follow even as subsequent memes work to solve personal,  social or ecological problems that emerge as a consequence of ways of being consonant with earlier memes. Then the new meme catches on, and becomes a ‘normal’ way of living, thinking, being in the world. On an individual level, think here of crawling, walking, running for example, each remains important in its own rights, even as we build our ability for more complex forms of movement. For Graves, human cultures develop and evolve new, more effective, more complex ways of structuring and organizing communities and cultures, even as we continue to incorporate earlier ways of being.

And then there is Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s Black Swan theory to add to the mix. Black Swans are rare events that have an extreme impact and that are retrospectively but not prospectively predictable (no one saw it coming, but looking back it makes sense). I’m thinking that Black Swan events help shift values and ways of being as they become dominant culturla memes.

Now all of this is pretty heady thinking for a day dream day on the beach, and as I thought about all of this I felt myself drifting off for a bit of a nap. And as I napped, I dreamt of nomadic cultures and communities struggling for survival living on their instincts. And then I woke and thought about tribal cultures and spirit quests and their search for kindred spirits. And I thought about how cultures grew from a sole focus on basic needs and survival to include spirituality and connections with family and kindred spirits.  And I thought about how democracies evolved creating space for individualism and spawning revolts, aggression and warfare – identity and independence seem to be linked with power and assertiveness and aggression. Traditions and religions seem to have emerged as one response to aggressions, but their structure and discipline that help to control chaos and to connect individuals and cultures to a higher ideal come with a call for self sacrifice that can be overly sacrifice freedom for security and tradition. The progress of modernity brought with it technology and material wealth and convenience, entrepreneurial growth and wealth – for some, but at a high cost to others and to the environment. There is the hope of green societies that offer compassion, community and equality, but these remain tender buds in the growth of communities. Perhaps we will see even further evolution toward more self actualizing cultures and communities, where survival, security, authority, structure, networks, systems and organic wholeness each and all find place in a dynamic balance and wholeness. And I found myself wondering where we will evolve next as human beings, as human communities. Perhaps memes of hope and healing (personal, social, cultural, environmental healing) will emerge and grow? I found myself wondering what a world free of oppression and discrimination would be like? What would we value? How would we organize family and education and care giving and wonder and awe and mystery and science and, and, and. And the joy of a sunny afternoon on Cape Cod is that I could wonder widely and wildly.   

So, now I am dreaming of love, compassion, and generousity exploding into our ways of being — as a black swan that becomes the next meme. It could happen. We could yet have a world where fairness reigns and dignity is respected.  I know my dreams will continue. The cycle will evolve. Indeed, change is the only constant. And amidst all of this change and wonder, there is the wonder and joy that Cape Cod is indeed a most wondrous place.

Walking a Labyrinth to find Pandora’s Gifts

On By MaryIn lost goddesses, vision and perspectiveLeave a comment

Cape Cod is a most wondrous place. It is a peninsula that juts out into the Atlantic ocean. It is divided from the mainland of Massachusetts and the United States by a man made canal (rendering it an island? Or not? I think not.) It has miles of beaches and sand and dunes. It has hundreds of kettle ponds. It has rolling hills and trees and forests and marshes, estuaries and bogs. It has historical sites and houses, state parks and a glorious national sea shore and museums of art and natural history. In the town of Sandwich (named after the Earl not the food) it has Heritage Museums and Gardens. Cape Cod is indeed a most wondrous place.

Heritage Museum and Gardens was once the home of Charles Owen Dexter, When he was 59 years old Mr. Dexter was diagnosed with a serious illness and was told that he had only months left to live. Upon hearing this, Mr. Dexter decided to live his last days in the pursuit of  activities that nurtured his soul. So, he purchased what was then known as the Shawme Farm in 1922 and devoted himself to gardening, to planting and hybridizing rhododendrons. When Charles Owen Dexter died in 1944 – at the age of 81he died a happy man. Cape Cod is a most wondrous place – so too is following the path of your heart.

Heritage Museum and Gardens, in addition to its amazing rhododendron gardens also has a labyrinth. Labyrinth’s are Greek in origin, with connections to the labrys – a two edged sword, and with connections to the earliest goddesses. Labyrinth’s have come to symbolize a path to a sacred center, as symbolic forms of pilgrimage. So, one cool afternoon I was at Heritage Museum and Gardens walking the labyrinth, quietly chanting and meditating on life and change. I slowly followed the path through to center, round the tree at the center and back out again. It was a quiet afternoon, so I sat down on the bench under the tree just at the edge of the path and had myself a bit of a nap. And while I napped I dreamt of Pandora. She was beautiful, and radiant, and immediately struck fear in my heart (I was raised catholic after all, and early practices linger). When she saw my fear Pandora laughed, and as she laughed, she said,

“Daughter, do not believe all you have been told. Too many of the early fathers where jealous of the life giving abilities of the mothers, and they strove to distort our gifts and our countenance. This is the truth of my being: I am Pandora, Giver of all gifts. To you my children I have given the pomegranate, I have given you the flowering trees that bear fruit, and vines that bear grapes that sustain you and give you joy. I have given you seeds and taught you planting. From me you have received plants for hunger and illness, for weaving and for dyeing. I am the goddess of the earth, and beneath my skin I hold for you minerals, ore and countless clays to shape and mould to your needs and uses. I have given you flint to spark the fires of your hearth to warm your heart and home. I, Pandora bring you wonder, curiosity, memory, and wisdom. Justice tempered with mercy are my gifts. I bring you caring and the love of family and friends. I bring to you courage, strength and endurance. I bring to you compassion and loving kindness for all sentient beings. Daughter, I bring to you the seeds of peace. Fear not my gifts. Revile not my name. Take what it your birthright and celebrate it with open hearted joy, rejoicing in the bounty and grace of the goddess and all that is woman.”

 And I woke from my dream, murmured, “so mote it be.” And gave thanks for the gifts of the goddess Pandora, for her daughter Charlene Spretnak who opened a path to re-member the lost goddesses of early Greece, and for the wonders of Cape Cod.

Philippe Petit and Doves that don’t fly

On By MaryIn Choices we make, growth into humanity, stories for social change, vision and perspectiveLeave a comment

Philippe Petit is a French high wire walker.  In his lifetime his has walked across high wires strung between the Twin Towers in NYC, Notre Dame Cathedral, Sydney Harbour Bridge, Cathedral of Saint John the Divine and many other breath taking locations. And what does this have to do with justice and human rights? Well, just as stories are important, so too is symbolism. Symbolic acts can help to transform our hearts and minds in ways that create a space for more open hearted, compassionate actions. And THAT is what Philippe Petit has done to advance justice and human rights.  Here is an excerpt from his TED talk that speaks to his high wire walk in Jerusalem. His talk is called “The journey across the high wire.”  I hope you enjoy it and that you find yourself thinking a bit more expansively …

http://www.ted.com/talks/philippe_petit_the_journey_across_the_high_wire.html

Philippe Petit says:  Faith is what replaces doubt in my dictionary.

So after a walk when people ask me, “How can you top that?” Well I didn’t have that problem. I was not interested in collecting the gigantic, in breaking records.

Each time I street juggle I use improvisation. Now improvisation is empowering because it welcomes the unknown. And since what’s impossible is always unknown, it allows me to believe I can cheat the impossible.

Now I have done the impossible not once, but many times. So what should I share? Oh, I know. Israel.

Some years ago I was invited to open the Israel Festival by a high-wire walk. And I chose to put my wire between the Arab quarters and the Jewish quarter of Jerusalem over the Ben Hinnom Valley. And I thought it would be incredible if in the middle of the wire I stopped and, like a magician, I produce a dove and send her in the sky as a living symbol of peace.

Well now I must say, it was a little bit hard to find a dove in Israel, but I got one. And in my hotel room, each time I practiced making it appear and throwing her in the air, she would graze the wall and end up on the bed. So I said, now it’s okay. The room is too small. I mean, a bird needs space to fly. It will go perfectly on the day of the walk.

Now comes the day of the walk. Eighty thousand people spread over the entire valley. The mayor of Jerusalem, Teddy Kollek, comes to wish me the best. But he seemed nervous. There was tension in my wire, but I also could feel tension on the ground. Because all those people were made up of people who, for the most part, considered each other enemies.

So I start the walk. Everything is fine. I stop in the middle. I make the dove appear. People applaud in delight. And then in the most magnificent gesture, I send the bird of peace into the azure. But the bird, instead of flying away, goes flop, flop, flop and lands on my head.(Laughter) And people scream. So I grab the dove, and for the second time I send her in the air. But the dove, who obviously didn’t go to flying school, goes flop, flop, flop and ends up at the end of my balancing pole.

You laugh, you laugh. But hey. I sit down immediately. It’s a reflex of wire walkers. Now in the meantime, the audience, they go crazy. They must think this guy with this dove, he must have spent years working with him. What a genius, what a professional.

So I take a bow. I salute with my hand. And at the end I bang my hand against the pole to dislodge the bird. Now the dove, who, now you know, obviously cannot fly, does for the third time a little flop, flop, flop and ends up on the wire behind me. And the entire valley goes crazy.

Now but hold on, I’m not finished. So now I’m like 50 yards from my arrival and I’m exhausted, so my steps are slow. And something happened. Somebody somewhere, a group of people, starts clapping in rhythm with my steps. And within seconds the entire valley is applauding in unison with each of my steps. But not an applause of delight like before, an applause encouragement. For a moment, the entire crowd had forgotten their differences. They had become one, pushing me to triumph.

I want you just for a second to experience this amazing human symphony. So let’s say I am here and the chair is my arrival. So I walk, you clap, everybody in unison.

So after the walk, Teddy and I become friends. And he tells me, he has on his desk a picture of me in the middle of the wire with a dove on my head. He didn’t know the true story. And whenever he’s daunted by an impossible situation to solve in this hard-to-manage city, instead of giving up, he looks at the picture and he says, “If Philippe can do that, I can do this,” and he goes back to work.

Inspiration. By inspiring ourselves we inspire others.  By believing in ourselves, by seeing the possibility of the impossible, we believe in others and together we grow the discipline to build the impossible.  The road to the impossible is not an easy one.  It is never straight forward. It is never smooth. It is surely not a level playing field. But there is a road, there is a path that we can create.  Sometimes we must build that path together. Sometimes we walk that path together. Sometimes the path must be forged by the solitary pioneer. But there is a path to freedom, to dignity, to justice.  On August 28, 1963, during the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial, Martin Luther King Junior delivered his “I have a dream” speech. His dream became a defining moment of the Civil Rights movement. Let us continue to dream wildly and wantonly. Let us continue to walk the path to freedom, dignity and justice – together and as pioneers ever forging new visions of dignity as we sing the old songs of freedom and hope.

Fifty years ago today: Dr. Martin Luther King had a dream

On By MaryIn human rights, vision and perspective1 Comment

Fifty years ago today, on Aug. 28, 1963

At the foot of the Lincoln Memorial

Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech:

 (Copyright 1963, Martin Luther King, Jr)

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God’s children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor’s lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

 —————————–

Fifty years ago Dr. King had a dream. He had the vision and courage to speak that dream to us all.

Dream your grandest dreams. Then wake up and live them with full hearted courage and love.

 

Give Yourself to Love: a tribute to Kate Wolf

On By MaryIn love, music of lifeLeave a comment

No big story this week, just a short story about a life, maybe an average kind of normal life, but a special life none the less: a tribute. This is a tribute to Kate Wolf. For no particular reason other than I found myself remembering Kate Wolf and thought you might want to know her , celebrate her, remember her too. So, here are some extracted elements of a Kate Wolf Biography, originally written by Max Wolf and Jamie Keller in the Kate Wolf Songbook (© 1987 Owl Productions) … go check her out! http://www.katewolf.com/archive/biography/index.htm

Kate Wolf was in San Francisco on January 27, 1942. She died far too early at the age of 44 on December 10, 1986 from complications of leukemia.  She was strongly influenced by the music that wove its way through her life. She loved the Weavers, Rosemary Clooney, and Dylan and the Beatles, the Kingston Trio, Merle Haggard and Lefty Frizell, and Hank Williams.

To say that she was an American folk singer and songwriter is just to skim the surface of her life, but those were important contributions that she made to her world, contributions that continue their resonance in our world. Many musicians continue to cover her songs. Some of her best-known compositions include “Here in California,” “Love Still Remains,” “Across the Great Divide,” “Unfinished Life,” and “Give Yourself to Love.” Her songs have since been recorded by artists such as Nanci Griffith and Emmylou Harris

Kate once said: “I live for a sense of a feeling of purposefulness in this world, you know, that I could stop my life at any point and feel that my life has been worthwhile; that the people I’ve loved and my children have all reached a point where their lives are now going to come to fruit. And as far as something I live by, it’s to try to be as alive as possible and feel free to make my mistakes and try to be as honest as I can with myself.”

Give yourself to love is my favorite Kate Wolf song:

 

Give Yourself to Love – Kate Wolf

 

Kind friends all gathered ’round, there’s something I would say

What brings us together here has blessed us all today

Love has made a circle, that holds us all inside

When strangers are as family, Loneliness can’t hide

chorus:

You must give yourself to love if love is what you’re after

Open up your hearts, to the tears and laughter

And give yourself to love, give yourself to love

 

I’ve walked these mountains in the rain I’ve learned to love the wind

I’ve been up before the sunrise to watch the day begin

I always knew I’d find you though I never did know how

Like sunshine on a cloudy day you stand before me now.

 

Love is born in fire; It’s planted like a seed

Love can’t give you everything, but it gives you what you need

Love comes when you are ready; love comes when you’re afraid

It will be your greatest teacher, the best friend you have made

 

Thinking about Kate always reminds me that 1) we never know how long we have; 2) we can always do something with the time we have; 3) to give myself to love, to open my heart, that love is really, ultimately all there is.

 Give yourself to love! Enjoy the alchemy of laughter and tears that will ensue. Love will find a way to respect for dignity and fairness. Love is the way. Give yourself to love!

thinking about Schrodinger’s cat

On By MaryIn cosmology, laughter, paradoxes, vision and perspective1 Comment

So … the other night I was watching TV. Specifically, I was watching a Big Bang Theory rerun.  At the point when I tuned in, Leonard and Penny have just returned from their first date. Leonard asks Penny if she has ever heard of Schrodinger’s Cat.  Penny grimaces, and says, that she has heard too much about the cat. (Apparently Schrodinger’s Cat has been a recurrent topic among the boys and Penny throughout the episode.) Leonard then proclaims that the cat is alive, and kisses Penny. All is well – or at least as well as things get between Leonard and Penny in the series – until Leonard notices the video camera that Howard and Raj have installed so that they can watch the good night moments between Leonard and Penny, but that is another tale. So the mention of Schrodinger’s Cat got set off a resonance of familiarity for me, but got me to wondering about what the story was with the cat.

Then , the very next morning (August 12, 2013) I opened my computer, went to Google, and  I saw an image celebrating Erwin Schrodinger’s 126th birthday!

 There are no coincidences. So I figured that it was meant to be that I should compile a blog about Schrodinger’s cat! And here you have it – thanks to Google and Wikipedia ….

First you need to know that while Schrodinger’s cat is real, it does not now, nor has it ever actually existed. That being said, Schrödinger’s cat is what folks call a thought experiment. It could also be understood as a paradox. Schrodinger’s cat was devised by the Austrian physicist Erwin Schrödinger back in 1935.  Erwin used the story about the cat to illustrate what he saw as the problem of the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics applied to everyday objects, an application of quantum mechanics that often resulted in contradictions with common sense. (Don’t buzz out on me this is about the cat not quantum mechanics.)

The Copenhagen interpretation is one of the earliest (1924–27) and most commonly taught interpretations of quantum mechanics. In essence it says that quantum mechanics does not give a description of objective reality but deals only with probabilities. And, the Copenhagen interpretation also proposed that the act of measurement causes the set of probabilities to immediately and randomly assume only one of the possible values. If you are into name dropping, the names associated with the Copenhagen interpretation include devised by Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg.

So … Schrodinger’s cat scenario describes the circumstances of a cat that may be both alive and dead, depending on an earlier random event. (Of course while the original “experiment” was imaginary, similar principles have been implemented, examined and used in practical applications.)  In the course of developing this experiment, Schrödinger coined the term Verschränkung (entanglement).  Schrodinger asked folks (that would be us) to imagine that a cat is penned up in a steel chamber, along with the following device (which must be secured against direct interference by the cat): in a Geiger counter, there is a tiny bit of radioactive substance, so small, that perhaps in the course of the hour one of the atoms decays, but also, with equal probability, perhaps none; if it happens, that a bit of radioactive substance does decay, the Geiger counter tube sets into action and through a relay releases a hammer that shatters a small flask of hydrocyanic acid which would kill the cat. (Clearly this thought experiment was devised before the days of the SPCA and PETA!) If you have left this entire system to itself for an hour, you could say that the cat still lives if no atom has decayed. Mathematical description of the entire system would express this by having in it the living and dead cat (pardon the expression) mixed or smeared out in equal parts.

 In effect, this thought experiment poses the question, ‘when does a quantum system stop existing as a superposition of states (a superposition of states is when both/and are taken to exist concurrently and at the same time) and become one or the other?’ So, when does the cat stop being alive AND dead, and become either dead or alive? If the cat survives, it remembers only being alive. If the cat dies, it remembers nothing – at least that is what we seem to believe about cats and their afterlife.

 The thought experiment illustrates an apparent paradox. Our intuition says that no observer can be in a mixture of states—yet the cat, it seems from the thought experiment, can be such a mixture. Is the cat required to be an observer, or does its existence in a single well-defined classical state require another external observer? Each alternative seemed absurd to Albert Einstein, who was impressed by the ability of the thought experiment to highlight these issues. In a letter to Schrödinger dated 1950, he wrote:

“You are the only contemporary physicist, besides Laue, who sees that one cannot get around the assumption of reality, if only one is honest. Most of them simply do not see what sort of risky game they are playing with reality—reality as something independent of what is experimentally established. Their interpretation is, however, refuted most elegantly by your system of radioactive atom + amplifier + charge of gunpowder + cat in a box, in which the psi-function of the system contains both the cat alive and blown to bits. Nobody really doubts that the presence or absence of the cat is something independent of the act of observation.”

 Suffice it to say that within the realms of science and literature there are many detailed interpretations of this thought experiment.  Superpositions of the states of the cat – the cat is both alive and dead – are possible only until there is observation. But, does the cat count as an observer?  And of course there is the post modern observation that if the cat is not observed within a period of time it will be dead from lack of food. And … there is no mention of kitty litter in the statement of the thought experiment … and … both science and literature are rich with interpretations.

Go, explore. Think seriously. Think with a clear and critical mind. Think with a light and open heart. Think about how this might apply to how we live our lives, to how we perceive and think about ourselves and each other.

Think about being alive and dead at the same time… think about both/and possible conditions.  Maybe some people, maybe ALL people really can be both good AND bad at the same time and the way they appear to us really is an artifact of our observation?  Remember the story of the Native American Grandmother and the compassionate and evil wolfs that live in each of us? And which lives? The one we feed, the one we observe and attend to! Elizabeth Kubler Ross was fond of saying that we all, each of us carry within our soul’s both Hitler and Mother Teresa – who we become is who we observe and attend to and nurture.

 Remember the Thomas Theorem: situations perceived as real are real in their consequences. What you see – what you expect to see – is what you get.  Be aware of your expectations. Be awake, be aware.

So … who will you be? What will you observe and build in your world. No, this is not a call for everyone to become Pollyanna. But it is a reminder that what you see may well be what you get, and that there is more choice than we realize in what we see.

Go forth my friends, nurture your sense of wonder at the world through which you wander. Never hurry by an open door. Never hurry by an opportunity for kindness and compassion. Keep an open heart, a giving hand, and a shoulder firmly pressed to the work of fairness and respect for human dignity.

From Paul McCartney on Writing “Let it Be”

On By MaryIn compassion, growth into humanity, music of lifeLeave a comment

I’ve always resonated with Paul McCartney’s song, “Let it be,” probably because of the “Mother Mary” lines in the song. It has a nice soothing feel to it, even while it acknowledges the frustrations of life and work for a better world, even while it encourages us to press on.  So, one day in a moment of aimlessness I did a bit of searching to find the story behind the story.  Here’s what Paul McCartney seems to have to say about writing “Let it be”

McCartney says that he was going through a really difficult time around the autumn of 1968. It was late in the Beatles’ career and they had begun making a new album, a follow-up to the “White Album.” As a group they were starting to have problems. McCartney thought he was sensing that the Beatles were breaking up, so he was staying up late at night, drinking, doing drugs, clubbing, the way a lot of people were at the time. He was really living and playing hard.

The other Beatles were all living out in the country with their partners, but he was still a bachelor in London with his own house in St. John’s Wood. At the back of his mind he says that he was also thinking  that maybe it was about time he found someone. This was before he got together with Linda.

McCartney says that he was exhausted! Then one night, somewhere between deep sleep and insomnia, he had the most comforting dream about his mother, who died when he was only 14. McCartney described his mother, saying, “She had been a nurse, my mum, and very hardworking, because she wanted the best for us. We weren’t a well-off family- we didn’t have a car, we just about had a television – so both of my parents went out to work, and Mum contributed a good half to the family income. At night when she came home, she would cook, so we didn’t have a lot of time with each other. But she was just a very comforting presence in my life. And when she died, one of the difficulties I had, as the years went by, was that I couldn’t recall her face so easily. That’s how it is for everyone, I think. As each day goes by, you just can’t bring their face into your mind, you have to use photographs and reminders like that.”

So in this dream twelve years later, his mother appeared, and there was her face, completely clear, particularly her eyes, and she said to him very gently, very reassuringly: “Let it be.”

He said it was a lovely dream. He woke up with a great feeling. It was really like she had visited him at this very difficult point in his life and gave him this message: “Be gentle, don’t fight things, just try and go with the flow and it will all work out.”

So, being a musician, he went right over to the piano and started writing a song: “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me”… Mary was his mother’s name… “Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.” There will be an answer, let it be.” It didn’t take him a long time to write it. He wrote the main body of it in one go, and then the subsequent verses developed from there: “When all the broken-hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be.”

McCartney thought it was special, so he played it for the other Beatles and ’round a lot of people, and later it also became the title of the album, because it had so much value to him, and because it just seemed definitive, those three little syllables. Plus, when something happens like that, as if by magic, it has a resonance that other people notice too.

Not very long after the dream, McCartney got together with Linda, which he says was the saving of him. And it was as if his mum had sent her, you could say.

The song is also one of the first things Linda and Paul ever did together musically. They went over to Abbey Road Studios one day, where the recording sessions were in place. He lived nearby and often used to just drop in when he knew an engineer would be there and do little bits on his own. And he just thought, “Oh it would be good to try harmony in mind, and although Linda wasn’t a professional singer, I’d heard her sing around the house, and knew she could hold a note and sing that high.”

So she tried it, and it worked and it stayed on the record. You can hear it to this day.

These days, the song has become almost like a hymn. McCartney sang it at Linda’s memorial service. And after September 11 the radio played it a lot, which made it the obvious choice for him to sing when I did the benefit concert in New York City. Even before September 11th, people used to lean out of cars and trucks and say, “Yo, Paul, let it be.”

So those words are really very special to him, because not only did his mum come to him in a dream and reassure him with them at a very difficult time in my life – and sure enough, things did get better after that – but also, in putting them into a song, and recording it with the Beatles, it became a comforting, healing statement for other people too.

 From Paul McCartney

A brief mediation on chaos and anarchy

On By MaryIn growth into humanity, happiness, laughter1 Comment

 I have always been attracted to chaos and intrigued by anarchy. Needless to say my parents found this, well, shall we just say distressing, and my friends often found it a bit disquieting. Chaos and anarchy – I just found them interesting and kind of engaging, mostly in an intellectual kind of way, I must admit.

 One of my favorite social work jokes for example goes something like this: what is the oldest profession in the world? … most people will respond prostitution. But the rejoinder is that it is social work. In fact, it is recorded in the Christian Bible! There you will find that it says that in the beginning god created the universe from chaos. … And, who do you think created the chaos? Social workers of course! (that is where you laugh, please.)

Typically we think of chaos as a state of complete disorder and confusion or as behavior that is so unpredictable that it appears to be totally random. But then there is chaos theory in math, with  applications in meteorology, physics, engineering, economics and biology. Chaos theory studies the behavior of dynamical systems that are highly sensitive to initial conditions, think the butterfly effect. Small differences in initial conditions (such as those due to rounding errors in numerical computation) yield widely diverging outcomes for such dynamical systems, all of this creates the possibility for long-term prediction impossible in general approaches to statistical analysis and correlation.  Chaos may not be as chaotic as it appears on first blush.

 Anarchy first brings to mind visions of a society without a coherent public government. I prefer to dream of anarchy as efforts to build a productive, creative society that honors the dignity of sentient beings, that deeply respects fairness through radical empathy even while avoiding the use of coercion, violence, force and authority. Quite a dream, yes?

 So, chaos and anarchy. But where does my attraction to them come from?  Well, the other day I was reading James Michner’s book Poland. And right there on page 203 I found this passage: “in 1786 there was an old Polish truism. Anarchy is the salvation of Poland. We have always thrived on chaos.”

 I read that passage an experienced it as a balm to my soul. I felt a soothing resonant connection to my roots.  There indeed is nothing quite like finding home and connection. Chaos and anarchy are deep in my cultural heritage and roots!

 And, what pray tell does this have to do with social justice and respect for human rights? I guess just that it is good to know who you are, where your roots are nurtured, and to respect the diversity of the differing grounds that nourish each of us.

 So, go bloom where you are planted, and celebrate vast diversity of all the flowers that grace this kaleidoscope of our world.

The Starfish Thrower

On By MaryIn Choices we make, compassion1 Comment

Long ago and far away, in an enchanted place called the Cape of Cod, I was inspired by Loren Eiseley to walk along the  Beach of Naussette  early one morning, continuing far past where other strollers might venture.  As I rounded a bend I came upon a young woman standing and staring at something in the sand. Eventually she bent over with all of the poise and grace of a yogi breathing life into an asana.  She bent, lifted something and flung it as far into the breaking surf as she could. I followed her for a while quietly staying back and watching as she repeated her practice.

Eventually I let myself catch up with her, and I could then see that she was reaching for a starfish.  “It’s alive.” I ventured.

“Yes.” She replied, and with astonishing poise, grace, and gentleness, she reached down, lifted it and cast it back into the waves. “It may live if the undertow is strong enough.”

As she spoke she continued to walk along the wave line carefully searching the sand for starfish. Finding another she reached for it, lifted and threw, continuing her practice even as I watched.

“But there are so many, and you are just one person. You can never succeed at saving them all.  What difference do these little actions make?” I thought I was muttering quietly to myself as I turned and walked back, taken with the momentous enormity of trying to save all the dying starfish along that vast expanse of coastline, feeling the overwhelming frustration of her inevitable failure.

And then I heard her equally quiet, unexpected reply. She said, “Indeed I am just one person, and this starfish is just one starfish. What I do matters very much to this one starfish. I am not trying to save them all, just this one, just each one, one at a time. For this one starfish I may well be successful. One small success at a time, over time matters very much.”

And in that brief interchange I was re-minded once more of the importance of being present to the moment. Yes a long term vision is important. Yes we need to plan and have goals. But when it all comes down to it, there is only this moment. This wonderful moment. Paul Simon had it right: love the one you’re with — love this moment. Even while remembering the interdependence and interconnection of all.

From NPR: A 40 year old photograph that stands as a counterpoint to Trayvon Martin’s murder

On By MaryIn Choices we make, growth into humanity, vision and perspectiveLeave a comment

I don’t often just cut and paste and repost here, but this one is an exception.

Last week the decision was announced in the George Zimmerman trial — he was found not guilty in the charges against him in the aftermath of his shooting teenaged Trayvon Martin in Florida.  I wanted to post something meaningful here, but words failed me. Most folks that I spoke with found the verdic abhorent and predictable.  My frequent response to such matters: ‘UGH’ seemed appropriate but inadequate.

then I found this story on NPR:

http://www.npr.org/blogs/codeswitch/2013/07/17/203016331/the-40-year-old-photo-that-gives-us-a-reason-to-smile?utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=20130721&utm_source=mostemailed

it seemed about right. so … read on, please …

This 1973 photo of five children playing in a Detroit suburb has gone viral on the Internet. The children were Rhonda Shelly, 3 (from left), Kathy Macool, 7, Lisa Shelly, 5, Chris Macool, 9, and Robert Shelly, 6.

In late July 1973, Joseph Crachiola was wandering the streets of Mount Clemens, Mich., a suburb of Detroit, with his camera. As a staff photographer for the Macomb Daily, he was expected to keep an eye out for good feature images — “those little slices of life that can stand on their own.”

The slice of life he caught that day was a picture of five young friends in a rain-washed alley in downtown Mount Clemens. And what distinguishes it are its subjects: three black children, two white ones, giggling in each others’ arms.

“It was just one of those evenings,” Crachiola remembers. “I saw these kids — they were just playing around. And I started shooting some pictures of them. At some point, they saw me and they all turned and looked at me and struck that pose that you see in the picture. It was totally spontaneous. I had nothing to do with the way they arranged themselves.”

This week, Crachiola, who now lives in New Orleans, posted the vintage photo on his Facebook page.

“For me, it still stands as one of my most meaningful pictures,” he wrote in his post. “It makes me wonder… At what point do we begin to mistrust one another? When do we begin to judge one another based on gender or race? I have always wondered what happened to these children. I wonder if they are still friends.”

After several days when the world seemed to be reduced to one big argument about race, the elegantly simple photo hit a nerve — in a good way.

After his Sunday post, Crachiola’s Facebook page blew up — as many as 100,000 page views. Six thousand “likes” and thousands of shares. The Macomb Daily reprinted the photo on its Web page and sent someone to the archives to help identify the children, who are now middle-aged.

It’s hard not to smile while looking at this picture. Crachiola liked it so much himself that he printed a large copy and has it hanging in his dining room. Former Michigan Rep. Don Riegle reportedly also liked it so much, he got a framed copy and hung it in his office.

Crachiola says that learning of the verdict in the George Zimmerman trial reminded him of the photo and made him think to post it.

He’s been gratified by the response. Between Facebook and the newspaper, he has solid leads on where the children are today. “Someone emailed me saying he works with one of the guys who was in the picture,” Crachiola says. “He actually works for the Macomb County Road Commission.” And just before we spoke, Crachiola saw someone had posted an even more intriguing note: “This,” wrote Darnesha Taylor Shelly, “is my husband and sister in laws.”

Looks like a reunion might be imminent