Aware.... but not afraid

I let my daughter - she's 7 - go for her first hike by herself in the woods behind Grandma's house. I used to play in those woods when I was a kid. Now, it's her turn.

Ok, so you are thinking "what sort of weirdo lets his little daughter go play in the woods? Didn't you ever read Red Riding Hood?" Or, what if she got lost?

Well, I did arm her with a compass and an emergency whistle and taught her how to use both. I packed her a snack and made sure she wore a hat. Hey, she's a girl scout and needs to learn to be prepared. If she gets lost in the woods for a couple of hours, big deal, right? Anyway, a kid needs to learn to be aware but not afraid.

Oh pooh. We've been so inundated by cheesey television dramas like CSI and Criminal Minds that we' actually believe there must be psycho killers behind every dammed tree. Or maybe our fear is a leftover from our humble protestant-pilgrim heritage - you know the one that gave us Arthur Miller's "The Crucible"? Taught us to fear the forest because therein lurks Ole' Scratch or the big bad wolf?

Anyway, did I mention, that I tracked her the whole way? That she was never more than 100 yards away from me - even though I couldn't see her the whole time. Well, eventually, she doubled back and caught me watching her. Her disappointment of "Daddy! Why did you follow me? I wanted to be by myself." Was replaced by fascination: "How did you find me?"

"Well, babygirl," says I. "Remember when I taught you about following deer tracks? or dog tracks? or raccoons? Well, it also works for tracking little kids." The trails were indeed muddy that day from all the rain we've had recently. Made my job that much easier - it was kind of a game.

She insisted I show her the tracks she had made. "Lift your foot," I replied.

Anyway, the scariest thing in the woods is her daddy. And I've told her that. But remember, that's no comment about my own delusions of grandeur - I'm not a soldier, stalker or psycho. I'm simply a fiercely determined parent. I know those woods. There is really very little in the suburban greenbelt to be afraid of except maybe poison ivy, a few non-poisonous snakes, and the neighbor's dog.

Although, come to think of it, I did hear a howl that was vaguely canine. It sounded improbably like a coyote or wolf. But it was midday, and the call wasn't repeated or answered. I wasn't concerned. My daughter didn't hear it. Maybe it really was the BBW to come huffin' and puffin' . . .

It's regrettable that kids don't get to play in the woods much anymore. That parents are too frightened to let them. I am proud that my daughter is fascinated by the natural world. It's a hallmark of a curious, creative mind.

Heisenberg is coming to Passover

Passover is upon us once again. This year, Heisenberg is coming to Passover and he has changed my thinking on the Jewish holiday.

In years past, I thought that the Passover Seder, the ritual meal, was mystical. The Seder is comprised of fourteen mini-rituals which, if assembled well, comprise a mystical experience.

The mini-rituals of the Passover Seder include matzo, the famous four questions, four glasses of wine and the telling of the Exodus story - best remembered by the movie starring Charlton Heston as Moses. Heston, by the way, died yesterday at his home in Beverly Hills. He was 84.

The word Seder in Hebrew means order. The mini-rituals come in a particular order: Number 1, bless the wine. Number 2, ritual washing of the hands. Number 3, dip the parsley in salt water. Etc. The word Seder also means order in the sense of making order from chaos.

After all, doesn't the very idea of "ritual" suggest some sort of order imposed?

If your family is like mine, order from chaos is a Herculean task (oops, did I just make a reference to something Greek?) If your family is anything like mine, there are children squirming in their seats; Uncle Bob always gets impatient to get on with it (when is it time to eat?); the last glass of wine never gets finished because peoples' attentions wane after all the eating and drinking; and by the way, "who has the Afikomen? - Can't finish the Seder without it."

Pursuing the mystical satisfaction of that perfect Seder requires zealous devotion - a fiery passion best given to younger people than I. When my daughter was born, that mystical pursuit was subordinated to thinking about how I would teach her - of not forgetting that kids being kids necessarily brings us back to the world from ritual meditation.

Heisenberg? Oh yea. Almost forgot. Enter Heisenberg. The traditional heroes of the Passover story are Moses, his brother Aaron, sister Miriam and the prophet Elijah- for whom we open our doors and pour a fifth glass of wine.

This year, I would like to also pour a glass for Werner Heisenberg. He wasn't, by the way, a Jew. He did win a Nobel Prize for physics in 1932 for his work in quantum physics. In 1926 he published a paper which introduced his Uncertainty Principle.

The Uncertainty Principle states, very simply, that the act of observation (of an electron for example) might change the behavior of that which is being observed. In other words, because of the interplay between the light needed to see an electron and the electron itself, the course of the electron might change. Heisenberg concluded that the location, speed and direction of an electron at any point can be described accurately by a matrix of possibilities rather than a single certainty. Hence, electrons orbit in "clouds". Hence, the Uncertainty Principle.

Heisenberg's theory wrecked empirical science - even if he did clarify the confusion of parents (just exchange the word "children" for "electron" in that last paragraph and it will make sense). Heisenberg, after all, had seven of them (kids, not electrons).

That is, despite all of our intent to impose order on the universe by describing it through experiment and observation, there are mysteries we still must fudge. That sometimes we simply cannot make order out of that which we observe.

I might add that my friend Charles Darwin was likely trying to impose order on his observations about the immense diversity of life when he developed his theories of evolution.

Anyway, the pursuit of the perfect Seder - imposing perfect order on the universe is at best, uncertain.

I don't mean to diminish the majesty of Passover or the meticulousness of Darwin's thinking when I say that I find it comforting that despite our best efforts, there is only so much we can do to impose order on our world. Heisenberg gave us scientific permission to be awed by the mysteries in our universe, despite our best efforts to solve them. We must still try to solve them. That is our nature. And they must still continue to elude us. That is just nature.

Happy Passover.

The parable of the traveling rock

I walked into the Divey Diner in downtown Moody. I gotta latte and sat down uninvited across from a girl who was reading a travel guide for Sophia, Bulgaria.

She looked up, startled by my forwardness. "Just a minute," I said. "If you are about to set off on your travels, take this with you." She was really cute and apparently preparing to see the world.

"I would like to give you this. This rock. To take on your journeys." It was a pebble - polished agate, like they used to make marbles out of.

She accepted it reluctantly with a raised eyebrow - clearly expecting explanation. My explanation was this:

This rock has two meanings. Carry it with you always.

First, let it symbolize kindness. Always be willing to accept kindness in the manner it was intended. As you travel through this world, you will meet people who are able and willing and perhaps even eager to show you kindness and hospitality. Sometimes, the help they offer is something you really need. Sometimes, a weird piece is the last piece you need for the puzzle. Never be afraid to accept it with gratitude and grace.

I traveled in Japan for 10 months. That was near on 15 years ago. I met a fellow on the train in Tokyo - an American. From California. He was on some sort of exchange to volunteer with the Japanese Diet (congress). Not only did he offer to let me sleep on his couch for two weeks, but he eventually put me in touch with the guy I roomed with until it was time to leave Japan.

The girl and the pebble: The pebble has a second meaning. Maybe it comes with a hidden obligation. Like an anchor that has a cable attached. Like kharma. It may become a heavy burden. After all, why would anyone wanna carry around some old rock that some guy in a coffee shop is willing to unload for nothing?

If that becomes the case, recycle it. If the pebble is a burden, do not set it down. Do not throw it away. Instead, give it away: Offer it as a gift to someone else. Maybe it's the last weird piece of their puzzle.

Offer them what ever help or wisdom you might have - and the rock along with it. For it is a traveling rock and if it is offered in kindness, perhaps one day it may find its way back to you.

[ED: Yea, just watch out it don't come back to you by way of a fast pitch.]