Context
As I was heading to Texarkana for Friends meeting today, I saw a dog running along the side of the road. After some internal debate, I pulled a u-turn and went to go look for it. I found the dog, but he ran away from me and seemed to be heading for a house a little ways off the road, so I gave up the chase.
Commentary
It was important to me to include the "internal debate" stuff in the Context, because I didn't want to go after this dog. Attending to stray dogs is a hassle. You often can't catch them, and when you do manage to get them in your car, you then have to decide what to do with them. Even if they have a collar with a current tag on, reaching the owners is sometimes a matter of several phone calls, and where does the dog stay in the interim?
No collar, no tag is even worse. Take the dog to the shelter? OK if it's open, but it often isn't, and even if it is, sometimes the people there suspect that you're dropping off your dog, not a stray, and give you a hard time. I used to work at the SPCA; I understand the instinct.
So why did I do something I didn't want to do? I think I know, but first I want to talk about some arguments I don't find compelling. You could say that I really did want to go after the dog, and that may be true, but as an explanation it's completely useless. If I can't even consciously access my own motivations and desires, there is little point in trying to analyze my actions. There's just this shadow self of mine that apparently does whatever it feels like.
Similarly, I find deterministic explanations of behavior problematic. By "deterministic" I mean both the religious idea of predestination and the scientific theory that brain chemistry controls everything. Despite their disparate backgrounds, these two ideas are remarkably similar in effect: they remove personal responsibility and self-actualization from the equation.
Also, it seems like determinism is both overly simple and overly complex. Simple in that it would answer every behavioral question the same way, either "God made me do it," or "My neurons made me do it." The complexity comes in when you look at that internal debate I mentioned earlier. It seems remarkably inefficient for either God or my brain to decide I should do go after a stray dog, then let me spend several seconds mulling the decision over. Why not just send me off right away?
So maybe you're thinking the reason I went after the dog was because even though I didn't want to, I thought it was the right thing to do. This is certainly closer to the truth, in that I do think stray dogs present an ethical problem. My husband will tell you that I grieve and pray over dead animals in the road, but for me, domesticated animals are a special case. At some point in our history as human beings we made agreements with dogs and cats that we would take care of them in return for some service. A stray dog indicates that we've dropped our end of the leash, if you take my meaning.
However, the reality is that I don't always go after every stray dog I see and even today, I didn't move heaven and earth to capture this one. So why did I perform this particular set of somewhat unusual actions today? Because I received a very specific call from God and (eventually) answered it. It's not predestination; it's a conversation with God about what I'm going to do. People look at me funny when I say that the reason I don't drink caffeine is because I had an argument with God about it and lost, but it's the truth!
In this case, the call was to go see if I could help the dog. Once it starting running away, I was released from the call. If you're not religious, you may prefer to think that my conscience smote me on this particular occasion, and that's fine. From my perspective, doing something I don't want to do seems so unlike me that it feels like an external presence. Ergo God.
"C'mon Lynn," you may be saying, "why would an omniscient God ask you to do something so pointless? Stop your trip, turn around, and not even catch the dog? What's up with that?"
I don't know, which is another reason I point the finger at an external God rather than my own internal mechanisms. This whole blog post has illustrated that I like to have good explanations for the things I do. Sometimes, it seems like God just says, "Nah, let's do this instead."
Which doesn't mean I can't impose an explanation after the fact, so here are are two possibilities:
1) Obedience is more important than results.
2) It made me blog about God, right?
What did you see today?
Showing posts with label animals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label animals. Show all posts
12/22/2012
8/29/2012
I saw a book description
Context
I was looking over the new children's nonfiction books at my library when I found Moonbird: a year on the wind with the great survivor B95 by Phillip Hoose. If you go to this link and click on A Look Inside, you'll see that the book describes the survival of an individual migrating shorebird in the face of myriad threats to his existence, including environmental changes wrought by human beings.
Commentary
Yes, once again I'm blogging about a book description, rather than the book itself. I'm a librarian; I read a lot of book descriptions. And movie descriptions. And CD descriptions. I also seem to be on an environmental kick as well, so forgive me if I grow repetitive.
I've been reading little bits of Charles Darwin's The Origin of Species and feeling dismayed that some people hold it in such contempt. Far from being a dry scientific treatise tasked with disproving God's existence, it's actually page after page of Darwin describing the wonders he sees in nature and offering his best explanation as to why they happen. Perhaps I'm perverse, but to me it reads much more like a celebration of creation than a debunking of it.
Anyway, one of the things Darwin is particularly taken with is adaptation, and he devotes most of a chapter to talking about how human beings create (if I can use that word) adaptations in domesticated plants and animals. I agree that it's an amazing process, but not really a surprising one. As people, we're all about making things fit what we want and/or need.
Think about it. Most species reside in places that are suited to their physical makeup: tropical plants in Brazil, penguins in Antarctica. People move to places that are not suited to their physiology at all and then change their physiology! Well, they either put on some clothes or some sunscreen. Or they just change the place itself, by building air-conditioned condos in the middle of the desert.
I'm starting to think this is why we are so hard on the ecology of our planet. We figure we'll always be able to adapt to whatever nature throws at us. And we may be right about that, but we fail to take into account that other species do not adapt that quickly. When we change the environment to suit ourselves, we frequently make it lethally inhospitable to the other inhabitants of the planet. You might say we do this unintentionally, but that doesn't really excuse us. We're supposed to be the ones with the big brains, not to mention the caretakers of all creation. We ought to be able to both adapt and accommodate, not just carelessly wreck everything in our path.
What did you see today?
I was looking over the new children's nonfiction books at my library when I found Moonbird: a year on the wind with the great survivor B95 by Phillip Hoose. If you go to this link and click on A Look Inside, you'll see that the book describes the survival of an individual migrating shorebird in the face of myriad threats to his existence, including environmental changes wrought by human beings.
Commentary
Yes, once again I'm blogging about a book description, rather than the book itself. I'm a librarian; I read a lot of book descriptions. And movie descriptions. And CD descriptions. I also seem to be on an environmental kick as well, so forgive me if I grow repetitive.
I've been reading little bits of Charles Darwin's The Origin of Species and feeling dismayed that some people hold it in such contempt. Far from being a dry scientific treatise tasked with disproving God's existence, it's actually page after page of Darwin describing the wonders he sees in nature and offering his best explanation as to why they happen. Perhaps I'm perverse, but to me it reads much more like a celebration of creation than a debunking of it.
Anyway, one of the things Darwin is particularly taken with is adaptation, and he devotes most of a chapter to talking about how human beings create (if I can use that word) adaptations in domesticated plants and animals. I agree that it's an amazing process, but not really a surprising one. As people, we're all about making things fit what we want and/or need.
Think about it. Most species reside in places that are suited to their physical makeup: tropical plants in Brazil, penguins in Antarctica. People move to places that are not suited to their physiology at all and then change their physiology! Well, they either put on some clothes or some sunscreen. Or they just change the place itself, by building air-conditioned condos in the middle of the desert.
I'm starting to think this is why we are so hard on the ecology of our planet. We figure we'll always be able to adapt to whatever nature throws at us. And we may be right about that, but we fail to take into account that other species do not adapt that quickly. When we change the environment to suit ourselves, we frequently make it lethally inhospitable to the other inhabitants of the planet. You might say we do this unintentionally, but that doesn't really excuse us. We're supposed to be the ones with the big brains, not to mention the caretakers of all creation. We ought to be able to both adapt and accommodate, not just carelessly wreck everything in our path.
What did you see today?
4/27/2012
I saw a request for information
Context
Help A Reporter Out (HARO) had a query today that made me laugh out loud. When I've discussed HARO in the past, I've mentioned that they had a strict "no copying the query to your blog" rule, but that appears to have gone by the wayside. So here it is (author removed to protect the laughed-at):
I'm looking for a female podiatrist who can help readers understand how to wear heels without sacrificing long-term health. Note: This is not about telling readers NOT to wear heels. They can do whatever they want. We want to help them wear heels safely.
Commentary
It's the second-to-last sentence that did me in. The way the writer jumps to the defense of her reader's personal liberty is both heartwarming and technically true. They can, in fact, do whatever they want. If I want I can drive at 90 miles per hour through rush hour traffic. There's not really much advice you can give me that will help me do it safely, though.
What the reporter is up against is a sad part of reality: facts do not yield to principles. Freedom of choice is something worth fighting for, but you can't use it as a bludgeon against biological processes like joint and bone breakdown. OK, it's just a story about wearing high heels, and although doing so regularly will cause long-term damage (Look, I'm not even a podiatrist and I said it!), it's not that big a deal right? Probably not, but acting as if belief can defeat reality can have truly terrifying consequences.
Randy Shilts wrote an excellent book about the beginning of the AIDS epidemic called And the Band Played On. In it he talks about how often proper health precautions were not taken because no one wanted to violate gay men's civil rights by suggesting their sexual practices were a vector for spreading the disease. Even though they were. And they were killing each other in numbers that would have made the Nazis proud. You should read the whole book, but if you want just one concentrated example of what I'm talking about, take a look at the entries for January 3, 1983 (The book goes in chronological order).
I can understand why we do this. I too have principles I like to live by. People shouldn't get mad at me when I tell the truth. I should be able to walk unmolested down any street I please. The animals who live in my house should do what I say, because I have their best interests in mind. The facts, however, do not yield.
We can choose to ignore this bit of unpleasantness, sticking to our principles and ignoring all inconvenient truths, or at least being really annoyed by them. Or we can abandon principle, being tempest-tossed by every new piece of information that comes along, whether it be a new diet or the latest management technique, and not the slightest bit worried that nothing we say or do can be counted on for more than twenty minutes.
But I think there's a middle road, one that recognizes that what we're really talking about is competing principles and we can choose between them according to our desires and values. You can believe both that high-heeled shoes are an important piece of professional attire and that it's important to take good care of your feet. My doctor does, after all. She's wearing her high heels every time I come into her office and every time we discuss them, she mentions the dangers inherent in doing so. Because she's made an informed choice. Now there's a principle I can get behind!
What did you see today?
Help A Reporter Out (HARO) had a query today that made me laugh out loud. When I've discussed HARO in the past, I've mentioned that they had a strict "no copying the query to your blog" rule, but that appears to have gone by the wayside. So here it is (author removed to protect the laughed-at):
I'm looking for a female podiatrist who can help readers understand how to wear heels without sacrificing long-term health. Note: This is not about telling readers NOT to wear heels. They can do whatever they want. We want to help them wear heels safely.
Commentary
It's the second-to-last sentence that did me in. The way the writer jumps to the defense of her reader's personal liberty is both heartwarming and technically true. They can, in fact, do whatever they want. If I want I can drive at 90 miles per hour through rush hour traffic. There's not really much advice you can give me that will help me do it safely, though.
What the reporter is up against is a sad part of reality: facts do not yield to principles. Freedom of choice is something worth fighting for, but you can't use it as a bludgeon against biological processes like joint and bone breakdown. OK, it's just a story about wearing high heels, and although doing so regularly will cause long-term damage (Look, I'm not even a podiatrist and I said it!), it's not that big a deal right? Probably not, but acting as if belief can defeat reality can have truly terrifying consequences.
Randy Shilts wrote an excellent book about the beginning of the AIDS epidemic called And the Band Played On. In it he talks about how often proper health precautions were not taken because no one wanted to violate gay men's civil rights by suggesting their sexual practices were a vector for spreading the disease. Even though they were. And they were killing each other in numbers that would have made the Nazis proud. You should read the whole book, but if you want just one concentrated example of what I'm talking about, take a look at the entries for January 3, 1983 (The book goes in chronological order).
I can understand why we do this. I too have principles I like to live by. People shouldn't get mad at me when I tell the truth. I should be able to walk unmolested down any street I please. The animals who live in my house should do what I say, because I have their best interests in mind. The facts, however, do not yield.
We can choose to ignore this bit of unpleasantness, sticking to our principles and ignoring all inconvenient truths, or at least being really annoyed by them. Or we can abandon principle, being tempest-tossed by every new piece of information that comes along, whether it be a new diet or the latest management technique, and not the slightest bit worried that nothing we say or do can be counted on for more than twenty minutes.
But I think there's a middle road, one that recognizes that what we're really talking about is competing principles and we can choose between them according to our desires and values. You can believe both that high-heeled shoes are an important piece of professional attire and that it's important to take good care of your feet. My doctor does, after all. She's wearing her high heels every time I come into her office and every time we discuss them, she mentions the dangers inherent in doing so. Because she's made an informed choice. Now there's a principle I can get behind!
What did you see today?
2/27/2012
I saw a call to action
Context
I was looking at my library's list of new audiobooks, when I came across Charles Moore's Plastic Ocean: How a Sea Captain's Chance Discovery Launched a Determined Quest to Save the Oceans. I don't plan to read the book, but I was horrified by the idea that there's a part of the ocean where plastic refuse has just taken over.
Commentary
Despite the fact that I haven't read this book, I'm still interested in its purpose. Not so much the environmental one, although cleaning up the oceans is a good and worthy cause, but the motivational one. This book probably contains accounts of both the sea captain's discovery and his quest, but I'm assuming the main purpose is to convince others to join him in the endeavor. In fact, if the description of the plastic-filled North Pacific Subtropical Gyre is horrifying enough, I'm thinking the author believes that will be a sufficient call to action.
It won't be, though.I've written before about how I see a great deal of information, care about only some of it and only act on a small portion of that. At the moment, just reading the basic premise of Plastic Ocean makes me care, but not enough to even take the action of reading the actual book.
Discouraging, no? You could have an epiphany, write a book about it, move people to care, even, and still get no tangible results from the effort. How can an experience that completely changed one person's life have little to no effect on another's? Quick! Hundreds of evangelical preachers are waiting for your answer!
Easy. People are different. Their priorities are different, their values are different, their very way of experiencing the same phenomenon are different. I am concerned about the amount of trash in the ocean. However, at the moment I am more concerned about taking care of my husband and the animals who live in our home, so I won't be changing careers in order to help refarm kelp. I'm concerned about saving time, so I'm not going to take the extraordinary measures necessary to create a zero waste household. And so on. Succinctly, it's not my thing.
And yet not so simple, because I believe our reactions to these differences cause the vast majority of conflicts in both our personal and societal relationships. In a bizarre combination of arrogance and insecurity, we believe if something is important to us, it must be important to everyone. Otherwise, they'll just be wrong. Or we'll be wrong. Or something. So we'll put a great deal of effort into changing others' minds, which is fine. But if that doesn't work, we'll decide to put a great deal of force into doing so. And preventing that IS my thing.
What did you see today?
I was looking at my library's list of new audiobooks, when I came across Charles Moore's Plastic Ocean: How a Sea Captain's Chance Discovery Launched a Determined Quest to Save the Oceans. I don't plan to read the book, but I was horrified by the idea that there's a part of the ocean where plastic refuse has just taken over.
Commentary
Despite the fact that I haven't read this book, I'm still interested in its purpose. Not so much the environmental one, although cleaning up the oceans is a good and worthy cause, but the motivational one. This book probably contains accounts of both the sea captain's discovery and his quest, but I'm assuming the main purpose is to convince others to join him in the endeavor. In fact, if the description of the plastic-filled North Pacific Subtropical Gyre is horrifying enough, I'm thinking the author believes that will be a sufficient call to action.
It won't be, though.I've written before about how I see a great deal of information, care about only some of it and only act on a small portion of that. At the moment, just reading the basic premise of Plastic Ocean makes me care, but not enough to even take the action of reading the actual book.
Discouraging, no? You could have an epiphany, write a book about it, move people to care, even, and still get no tangible results from the effort. How can an experience that completely changed one person's life have little to no effect on another's? Quick! Hundreds of evangelical preachers are waiting for your answer!
Easy. People are different. Their priorities are different, their values are different, their very way of experiencing the same phenomenon are different. I am concerned about the amount of trash in the ocean. However, at the moment I am more concerned about taking care of my husband and the animals who live in our home, so I won't be changing careers in order to help refarm kelp. I'm concerned about saving time, so I'm not going to take the extraordinary measures necessary to create a zero waste household. And so on. Succinctly, it's not my thing.
And yet not so simple, because I believe our reactions to these differences cause the vast majority of conflicts in both our personal and societal relationships. In a bizarre combination of arrogance and insecurity, we believe if something is important to us, it must be important to everyone. Otherwise, they'll just be wrong. Or we'll be wrong. Or something. So we'll put a great deal of effort into changing others' minds, which is fine. But if that doesn't work, we'll decide to put a great deal of force into doing so. And preventing that IS my thing.
What did you see today?
7/28/2011
I saw my husband groom my dog
Context
My husband and I have a golden retriever named Claudia. She is the first long-haired dog we've ever had, and she requires a great deal of grooming, particularly during the summer. This evening as we walked in the house after my husband picked me up from work, I teased Claudia for looking tatty. It was my intention to groom her after I had completed a couple of coming home tasks, but my husband started on her before I had the chance.
Commentary
Analogs to the situation described above happen in my married life all the time: I call attention to a problem and my husband will fix it. I often feel guilty and lazy and a little overbearing at the time, like I'm willing to criticize a situation, but not stepping up to do anything about it. On the other hand, my husband says that one of things he appreciates about me is that I notice stuff he's oblivious to, so apparently I'm pretty good at this opening my eyes and opening my mouth stuff.
I suppose that means I should consider my power of observation a gift, but there's a fine line between calling attention to something that could be done and ordering people around, and I don't want to be on the wrong side of it. Especially since another one of my gifts (or personality flaws, depending on your perspective) is that I really hate it when people tell me what to do.
Of course, if I'm being called in some circumstances to do the thing that drives me up the wall when other people do it, it will certainly help me learn tolerance, won't it? So that's a gift too, if not necessarily a welcome one.
What did you see today?
My husband and I have a golden retriever named Claudia. She is the first long-haired dog we've ever had, and she requires a great deal of grooming, particularly during the summer. This evening as we walked in the house after my husband picked me up from work, I teased Claudia for looking tatty. It was my intention to groom her after I had completed a couple of coming home tasks, but my husband started on her before I had the chance.
Commentary
Analogs to the situation described above happen in my married life all the time: I call attention to a problem and my husband will fix it. I often feel guilty and lazy and a little overbearing at the time, like I'm willing to criticize a situation, but not stepping up to do anything about it. On the other hand, my husband says that one of things he appreciates about me is that I notice stuff he's oblivious to, so apparently I'm pretty good at this opening my eyes and opening my mouth stuff.
I suppose that means I should consider my power of observation a gift, but there's a fine line between calling attention to something that could be done and ordering people around, and I don't want to be on the wrong side of it. Especially since another one of my gifts (or personality flaws, depending on your perspective) is that I really hate it when people tell me what to do.
Of course, if I'm being called in some circumstances to do the thing that drives me up the wall when other people do it, it will certainly help me learn tolerance, won't it? So that's a gift too, if not necessarily a welcome one.
What did you see today?
5/23/2011
I heard a child yelling
Context
My house is adjacent to a city park, and as such I get to hear a lot of what goes on out there. Today I heard a child yelling in the park, and as often happens, I couldn't tell if he/she was in distress and if so, whether that distress required my attention. I let it slide and continued on my way to the dry cleaners.
Commentary
For various reasons, not the least because I used to be a Girl Scout and I have my Emergency Preparedness pin, I'm usually quite willing to jump into emergency situations. Car wreck? I'm calling 911, directing traffic, and holding the victim's hand (not at the same time). Turtle crossing the road? I'm jumping out of my car and carrying him across. Hey, you define "emergency" your way; I'll define it mine.
On the other hand, over time I've become much more cautious about getting involved in volatile interpersonal interactions, which are usually what's going on if I hear one person yelling in the park. If someone falls off the slide, I'll usually hear several people yelling, so I know to run out there. But one voice gives me pause.
As I said, this has happened over time. I used to interpose myself in personal conflicts with great glee, confident that I knew exactly what to do. This has changed for several reasons:
1) I'm a religious pacifist now. At one time I was perfectly willing to counter a violent act with one of my own, or at least threaten to. That tool is no longer in my repertoire.
2) I'm very unwilling to give unsolicited advice these days. Partially this is because I hate when people offer it to me, but it's also because I often don't believe it's effective. When someone is having a screaming match with their spouse, I'm don't think they're in a place where they can hear me say they're behaving badly.
3) I'm no longer as convinced of my own righteousness. When someone's drowning, you throw them a rope, of course. But when a mother is smacking her child, and I've experienced this, she has just as much right to tell me I have no idea what her life and her child are like as I do to tell her that corporal punishment is wrong. Neither of us is wrong.
So I stay out of a lot more situations, but I don't like that solution, either. It seems cowardly and apathetic. Lately I've been trying standing near people who are in conflict and watching silently, in hopes of giving a "I'm here, I see, I'm part of what you need to consider" vibe. So I'm opening my eyes but not, unless asked, my mouth. Is that enough?
What did you hear today?
My house is adjacent to a city park, and as such I get to hear a lot of what goes on out there. Today I heard a child yelling in the park, and as often happens, I couldn't tell if he/she was in distress and if so, whether that distress required my attention. I let it slide and continued on my way to the dry cleaners.
Commentary
For various reasons, not the least because I used to be a Girl Scout and I have my Emergency Preparedness pin, I'm usually quite willing to jump into emergency situations. Car wreck? I'm calling 911, directing traffic, and holding the victim's hand (not at the same time). Turtle crossing the road? I'm jumping out of my car and carrying him across. Hey, you define "emergency" your way; I'll define it mine.
On the other hand, over time I've become much more cautious about getting involved in volatile interpersonal interactions, which are usually what's going on if I hear one person yelling in the park. If someone falls off the slide, I'll usually hear several people yelling, so I know to run out there. But one voice gives me pause.
As I said, this has happened over time. I used to interpose myself in personal conflicts with great glee, confident that I knew exactly what to do. This has changed for several reasons:
1) I'm a religious pacifist now. At one time I was perfectly willing to counter a violent act with one of my own, or at least threaten to. That tool is no longer in my repertoire.
2) I'm very unwilling to give unsolicited advice these days. Partially this is because I hate when people offer it to me, but it's also because I often don't believe it's effective. When someone is having a screaming match with their spouse, I'm don't think they're in a place where they can hear me say they're behaving badly.
3) I'm no longer as convinced of my own righteousness. When someone's drowning, you throw them a rope, of course. But when a mother is smacking her child, and I've experienced this, she has just as much right to tell me I have no idea what her life and her child are like as I do to tell her that corporal punishment is wrong. Neither of us is wrong.
So I stay out of a lot more situations, but I don't like that solution, either. It seems cowardly and apathetic. Lately I've been trying standing near people who are in conflict and watching silently, in hopes of giving a "I'm here, I see, I'm part of what you need to consider" vibe. So I'm opening my eyes but not, unless asked, my mouth. Is that enough?
What did you hear today?
7/31/2010
I saw people protesting
Context
I had a dream this morning where I was participating in some kind of multi-day animal-related activity. I couldn't tell you what because it was a dream, but when I looked outside the fence of the facility we were meeting in, I saw some people holding picket signs saying things along the lines of "Animals are not servants!" "Free the beasts!", etc. I walked up to the fence so I could get a closer look, and two dogs belonging to one of the protesters came up to me, so I started petting them and talking to them. Later, when I came out to have the barbecue dinner that was scheduled for that night, I saw that the protesters had dispersed and I was glad.
Commentary
I used to have a difficult time describing my position on animal issues, but I think I now have a phrase that makes the appropriate distinctions. I am an animal welfare activist, not an animal rights activist. To summarize, this means that I think human beings ought to be good stewards of the animals in our care, particularly domesticated ones, and that I think the people in PETA are nutcases. Refining my position further, I'll say that animal rights activists get upset about things that I think are positive, like training dogs to do service work. In fact, I think that may have been what was going on in my dream, but I can't say for sure.
I have been known to engage in formal protests, but as I grow older I find myself doing it less and less. There was a pivotal event in my life about twenty years ago that helped me see demonstrations differently. I was living in Oakland at the time, and there was some kind of political dispute going on over People's Park in Berkeley that had grown violent. As is pretty normal for me, I was on the "left" side of the dispute. Twenty years serving about the same purpose as an unconscious state, I don't remember at all the reason for the conflict.
Anyway, one day I decided I needed to go down to the Park and get involved in what was going on. I probably had a plan for what to do, and it probably involved confronting law enforcement, but when I got to downtown Berkeley, I found myself just walking around and watching what was going on. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this "seeing" thing has been going on with me for a long time. And, as I described it to my husband later, all I could see were people. No bad guys, no good guys, just people.
So I came home and thought twice about participating in protests after that. I'm not saying that being in a demonstration requires demonizing the opposition. I'm saying that hanging out with a large, or a small-but-committed, group of people that agrees with you makes it more likely you will think it's irrational to disagree with you. And that's an opinion I never want to hold.
I believe the people in my dream were surprised I was petting their dogs. They had a vision of who I was because I was participating in this event, and the vision included "hates animals." I'd like to think that they stopped their protest because they saw that the truth wasn't so black and white. Perhaps it's arrogant to think that my actions could change people's minds so quickly, but it's my dream; I can say what I want!
I'm moved by this because I've been having some other dreams lately where I get angry when someone violates a closely-held belief of mine, and my expressions of anger never accomplish any good end. This latest dip into my subconscious let me see the other side: when I emphasize relationships over principles (I could've just ignored the protesters and gone about my business), good things happen.
This is what occurred to me when I woke from my dream: God doesn't love principles; God loves people. The Bible doesn't actually say that anywhere, but I can't draw any other reasonable conclusions from the contradictory threads of Jesus' life and ministry. Specifically, I think that's what he meant when He said the Sabbath was made for people, not the other way around. Principles are not bad, any more that sincerely-intended political protests are. You just can't let them get in the way of the important stuff.
What did you see today?
I had a dream this morning where I was participating in some kind of multi-day animal-related activity. I couldn't tell you what because it was a dream, but when I looked outside the fence of the facility we were meeting in, I saw some people holding picket signs saying things along the lines of "Animals are not servants!" "Free the beasts!", etc. I walked up to the fence so I could get a closer look, and two dogs belonging to one of the protesters came up to me, so I started petting them and talking to them. Later, when I came out to have the barbecue dinner that was scheduled for that night, I saw that the protesters had dispersed and I was glad.
Commentary
I used to have a difficult time describing my position on animal issues, but I think I now have a phrase that makes the appropriate distinctions. I am an animal welfare activist, not an animal rights activist. To summarize, this means that I think human beings ought to be good stewards of the animals in our care, particularly domesticated ones, and that I think the people in PETA are nutcases. Refining my position further, I'll say that animal rights activists get upset about things that I think are positive, like training dogs to do service work. In fact, I think that may have been what was going on in my dream, but I can't say for sure.
I have been known to engage in formal protests, but as I grow older I find myself doing it less and less. There was a pivotal event in my life about twenty years ago that helped me see demonstrations differently. I was living in Oakland at the time, and there was some kind of political dispute going on over People's Park in Berkeley that had grown violent. As is pretty normal for me, I was on the "left" side of the dispute. Twenty years serving about the same purpose as an unconscious state, I don't remember at all the reason for the conflict.
Anyway, one day I decided I needed to go down to the Park and get involved in what was going on. I probably had a plan for what to do, and it probably involved confronting law enforcement, but when I got to downtown Berkeley, I found myself just walking around and watching what was going on. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this "seeing" thing has been going on with me for a long time. And, as I described it to my husband later, all I could see were people. No bad guys, no good guys, just people.
So I came home and thought twice about participating in protests after that. I'm not saying that being in a demonstration requires demonizing the opposition. I'm saying that hanging out with a large, or a small-but-committed, group of people that agrees with you makes it more likely you will think it's irrational to disagree with you. And that's an opinion I never want to hold.
I believe the people in my dream were surprised I was petting their dogs. They had a vision of who I was because I was participating in this event, and the vision included "hates animals." I'd like to think that they stopped their protest because they saw that the truth wasn't so black and white. Perhaps it's arrogant to think that my actions could change people's minds so quickly, but it's my dream; I can say what I want!
I'm moved by this because I've been having some other dreams lately where I get angry when someone violates a closely-held belief of mine, and my expressions of anger never accomplish any good end. This latest dip into my subconscious let me see the other side: when I emphasize relationships over principles (I could've just ignored the protesters and gone about my business), good things happen.
This is what occurred to me when I woke from my dream: God doesn't love principles; God loves people. The Bible doesn't actually say that anywhere, but I can't draw any other reasonable conclusions from the contradictory threads of Jesus' life and ministry. Specifically, I think that's what he meant when He said the Sabbath was made for people, not the other way around. Principles are not bad, any more that sincerely-intended political protests are. You just can't let them get in the way of the important stuff.
What did you see today?
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