A baby provoked these ideas

One of the co-workers brought with her baby to work today. She’s on mama-leave, so the only reason she dropped by was to show it off. This happens every time a chick’s got herself a baby here, and all the women in the building loom over the poor thing with glittering diamond eyes. They want one of their own, obviously. I don’t blame them. Babies are fun creatures. They are like small versions of ourselves, but without any of the financial, inter-social or sexual worries that we have. They also seem to reduce the inbred futility or pessimism that goes with the non-believing western culture, only to replace it with the tranquility which was denied prior to giving birth.

It’s a good thing introducing the baby here, though, as the place is teeming with highly differentiated bacterial cutltures. A child which isn’t subjected to this, or grows up in a completely sterile environment, will certainly be digging its own grave.

This lil’ girl wasn’t born that long ago, so she didn’t really interact or anything. As a philosopher and independent thinker I too worship these little bundles of joy, but I prefer the stage where eye contact begins to mean something to them. I’ve had lengthy discussions with a baby who knew how to talk, but not what words were. It’s been written a lot about it in continental philosophy, existentialism, and even though they don’t know it – modern researchers are following in its footsteps, mapping the contact between mother (with others) and child that demands a self in the selfless baby. Interesting stuff.

It struck me that the girl holding it, this American chick who likes to play the sadist role, was completely mush. It didn’t fool me for a second. Nor the baby, for that matter, as a look of terror gleamed from the huddling baby clothing. But on the other hand, I’m not fooled by the sadist role either. You might think you are something else than human, but mother nature’s miracles always bring us back to our point of departure – the selfless self – only to realize that there are no such thing as a miracle. We’ve just been led astray by ideas. Old woman zen.

Sorry, I’ve been reading the Upanishads lately, and I’m quite taken by it, although it seems to me like a compromise between buddhism and socio-cultural world order. A failing compromise, as such, as there are no such things as compromises. There is one thing, another thing and a third thing. A constellation of ideas is nought.

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