Connections

Some questions asked elsewhere.

Why read old books? Why art and science?

I've struggled with this one. Robinson Crusoe amazed me, when I read it about age 17. Adventure and resourcefulness, I wonder why I didn't notice the bigotry. Maybe I should pick it up again. Important to know where we've been as a culture. Jane Austen is still a clear, wry voice, crying out for love and freedom and hope. To know we have not changed much, that our humanity reaches across the earth, and far back into time. Perhaps to a point before we were fully human. This is what old stories can teach us, why it's important to look at both the incorrect beliefs, which may not be all that wrong. And to be stunned by the wisdom, the familiarity of the stupidity, the grandness and the pettiness to which we all are heirs to.

And arts are not separate from sciences. It all connects in the human brain, which is the only real tool we have, everything else are tools made by that tool. Ask a blacksmith why he always has to use the anvil. Science needs art to be explainable. Art gives insight to science. Art imagines it otherwise, then makes science prove it.

Why tell children the truth?
They will tell lies, because they have few other shields, and it is a kind of intelligence. Telling them truth, always, gives them a view of integrity and honesty to strive for when they are no longer powerless. Give them good information, or at least access to it, and feed their curiosity, then stand back. Amazing how much the young can do with a library card and a few adults willing to discuss anything.

Why smile when you are unhappy?
Ah, lots of research on this. As a kid, as a little girl in particular, I was ordered to "give me a smile!" I would frown harder. "Aw, is it really that bad?" Yes, yes it was, and their intrusion made it worse. Hard to get past that resistance. I didn't like my life, I was miserable, and smiling felt like a lie. Worse, I would be simply thinking, and get accused of scowling.

But smiles, the muscles moving up and scrunching, make the head and heart more cheerful. It affects everyone around, too. Act a certain way, and your feelings tend to follow. Those intrusive folks could have been dismissed, but I let them get to me and make me feel even worse. I still won't smile at a demander, but neither will I frown.

When I smile deeply, all the way to my toes, so it reaches my eyes, the joy comes up by capillary action.