Working Problems

My computer is not feeling well. Or it may be feeling quite well and just be engaged in a work slow-down action. Perhaps a protest against these early mornings? It was one thing when the sun was up, but now in mid-September might as well be the middle of the night when we begin to write. Perhaps my computer has reported me to the Labor Relations Board for violating some unspoken agreement about working hours between computers and humans. Or perhaps it’s trying to teach me a lesson about who’s in charge. Or it might be something to do with how Word doesn’t quite work right on this laptop and doesn’t close documents properly and when I reboot I often end up with twenty or thirty documents piled on top of each other that I have to sort through to find out which is the most current version of each.

Whatever the cause, things are not normal this morning. I tried closing programs and documents. Everything was very slow. Word documents were not willing even to be moved around without a great delay (which leads me toward the work slow-down theory). At first, even the words I typed onto this current document were hesitating before they came onto the page. Now it’s better. Maybe it was just a sleepiness thing?

Funny how the mind loves to make associations. Poetry and science are both products of this wondrous and troublesome human necessity. We observe something and we immediately tap into what we ‘know’ about it. Where does this event fit into the world as I know it? The mind instantly filters and shapes what it sees to find how this fits into the ongoing puzzle of my world.

One perspective says that poets make stuff up while scientists observe what is actually there. But maybe it’s more accurate to talk about different ways to look closely. As I examine my life and the world around me, I am equally interested in the things outside of me and the things inside of me. Perhaps I am most interested in the relationship of the two. How is it that I see and understand? What do I understand? Who even does this ‘understanding’ I speak of?

Scientists do tend to favor uncovering causality. Mere description is not as interesting as what leads to what? How does this happen?   The proximity of two events does not prove that one causes the other. But can we do experiments that might lead to more certainty about the relationship between two different things? Can we say with some degree of certainty that every time x happens y follows? We humans deeply reassured by the predictability of causality.

Gardening is a causality practice. I buy packets of seed with specific names that go with specific pictures I have seen on-line or in my head or in my garden. French Sophia marigold seeds produce small ruffled pom-poms of deep variegated orange and gold, not the silky powder blue funnels of morning glories. I count on this dependable world. Plant the seeds under the right conditions, give them water, sunlight and good soil, and voila – the intricate and wondrous blossoms are just like the pictures.

Gardening reaffirms my sense that the world is reliable and predictable. The results of the upcoming Presidential election are not in this category, nor is what will happen in this polarized and angry country when the election results are announced. Just turning my mind to the reality of this uncertainty, I feel unsettled and slightly fearful. I’m reminded of my desire to do what I can to nudge the results toward the outcome that I want. (note to self: do something today)

There is so much to observe—both within and without. How to live in the amazing world of causality—to do my part but not get lost in the angst of it all? How to be serious and playful at the same time? Response-able and unencumbered?

I don’t believe that a fixed position will suffice. I tell silly stories about my computer even as I know it’s time to reboot and may even be time to get the assistance of someone who knows more than I do. Still, I try to appreciate my life and its many meanings in the biggest view I can.

Nothing is fixed or needs to be fixed—except maybe my computer.