Now that the Bugs-Tested-and-Approved Smoothie Diet Plan seems to be staying down – can I get a witness – I am thinking about thinking.
What do you think about this plan for thinking.
1. Observe carefully. “Just the facts, ma’am.” Focusing, in a Sherlockian integrative manner, on what is right there in front of, around, and behind one’s eyes. Cultivating the capacity to examine detail on the one hand and, on the other, to take in the bigger-picture context as well.
2. Observe the principle of Occam’s Razor. The Law Of Parsimony, Economy, Succinctness. I love this Wikipedia definition of Occam’s Razor: From competing hypotheses, choose the one that depends on the fewest assumptions.
3. In an ever-changing world, observe the principle of the Razor of Maturana & Varela. Biologist Humberto Maturana and neuroscientist Francisco Varela write: “[W]e must walk the razor’s edge . . . . [between] regularity and mutability . . . of solidity and shifting sand . . . . [We must] adopt an attitude of permanent vigilance against the temptation of certainty. [We must] recognize that certainty is not proof of truth . . . . [T]he world everyone sees is not the world, but [one that] we bring forth with others.”
Our very biological, physiological survival depends on including others. “[B]iologically . . . without acceptance of others, there is no social phenomenon. If we still live together that way, we are living indifference and negation under a pretense of love.”
So I like this trilogy of desiderata:
1. Focus comprehensively. Both narrowly (on precise detail) and broadly (on context).
2. Observe the Law Of Parsimony, Simplicity. Razor out as many unwarranted assumptions as possible.
3. Renounce certainty. Walk instead the razor’s edge of dialogue, process, and love, arm and arm with others.
Perhaps an example would edify. Take Bugsy’s throwing up. As it was first coupled with coughing, I posited that hairballs might be the issue. Treated for hairballs, problem cleared up, problem returned.
Perhaps Bugsy was upset. Could find no support for that.
Was he sick? Didn’t appear so. He was as lively and feisty as ever.
Focus. Maybe he was wolfing his food too fast. Observation to bear out this theory: Bugsy never chews his treats. Fang chews his treats. Bugsy inhales them.
Arm-in-arm prong of the analysis: Many of you chipped in to offer your own “wolfing” experiences.
So apply the Bugs-Tested-and-Approved Smoothie Diet Plan, garnished with rocks to slow things down a tad.
Success. So far.
So here’s the thing: The need for the “arm-in-arm” prong emerged especially clearly this morning.
Two words: Human error.
Yesterday I fed Bugsy his first third and then had to leave briefly. I was certain I had put the remaining two-thirds in a little cup, capped it with a plastic lid, and left it on the range for my return. Like this, for example, uncapped for illustrative purposes.
There was a little cup on the range, but it was spit-shined clean and the plastic lid was neatly placed beside it.
The only explanation I could find was that someone must have come in, removed the lid, and eaten the food.
Go ahead. Laugh. In view of how long it took for this to dawn on me. Who-dun-it was obvious: Fang. There’s a warranted assumption for you. Right in character. The little scamp.
So this morning, after feeding Bugs his first third, I stashed the remaining two-thirds in the toaster oven.
Then I forgot I did that, and turned on the toaster oven.
Here is the result. Purée of turkey, sweet potato, and oatmeal – finished with a light plastic infusion.
So there you have it. When we reach the point, as I did this morning, where we simply do not know where to turn –
We must walk arm-in-arm with each other. And just hope and pray that the time has not yet arrived to petition for appointment of the guardian.