This week’s rohn report is late. I couldn’t think of anything to write about.
It’s not like there’s not enough going on all around me all the time - the cars, the city, the wars, the bombings, the biosphere, the blogosphere, people doing things, the news, the economy, money, the stock market, issues and reasons and logos and diseases. Way more than I can even comprehend.
It makes me want to hide, find shelter and disappear or atleast become unimportant. Watch the sun rise and watch the sun set. Retire to the forest, or is it an ashram.
There is the inner world, of course. But that doesn’t need any reportage. It’s there for us to see, plain as it can be.
Either it’s going alright or it’s not. Or it’s some variation of either one. The meter marks the retrograde or forward progress on the face of the clock. Time shutters between when and then. It already happened. It might happen again.
And so I went to the cafe. That’s my safe place. Got a table by the window and a chance to say hi to a baby. She was passing by in her stroller.
“Hi Beauty”, I spoke from my stool. She (or maybe he) was watching me closely, her head nodded slightly when I said ‘beauty’.
Babies absorb whatever they experience. They have no filter. It becomes their reality. Now that baby knows that it’s beautiful. Confirmed by a stranger. She will never forget that.
That seems important. Somewhere in the depths of her or his baby brain she knows, because she received the message, that she is beautiful.
Some people think that babies don’t remember anything. Some people think they can’t possibly understand the adult words that are being spoken around them. I think they probably understand way more than we can even imagine.
They understand the tone of voice and facial expressions. They probably have some sense of inference. They calibrate the closeness of a parent, the familiarity of a scene and generate meaning. Even if they don’t know the definition of the word ‘beauty’, they know what’s being said.
The mom thanked me as she left, pushing the stroller. The baby inside made no sign, just stared.
music 1:41:18-1:47:45
cars, cities and wars