A Ballet of Pavlov’s Dogs

 

Photo credit: Ron Schmidt www.looseleashes.com
Photo credit: Ron Schmidt www.looseleashes.com

 

My writing mojo has been off leash lately.  It’s gone and done a runner.

I’ve been sick in the more ‘regular’ sense of sickness. One run after another of yucky bugs, bacterial and viral. My third round of antibiotics. It’s nothing compared to how I was before; could be worse. Blah. Still feeling like a germ ball. Thankfully, I’ve had the internet to keep me entertained. Some of my friends on social media post awesome things. Entertaining, political, thought provoking things. Some of the bloggers I read wrote some great stuff this week too. This resonated with me so much. And when I’ve felt too yuck for all of that thinking, there has been that old internet comfort of window shopping for… shoes!  Looking at shoes, dreaming of shoes. I have developed a bit of a passion for shoes, probably due to their scarcity in my big-footed-girl-world.

It's ridiculous and vacuous. I know.(5)

It’s not an interesting thing, but I do love them. So anyway, there I was browsing shoes, in my congested, mouth-breathing, heavy lidded state when I passed a pair that had a style name I recognised; Lexie. The name of one of my son’s fantastic karate senseis (I wonder what the plural for sensei, is?) Lexie is a dignified, wise and fascinating person who is teaching my son so much more than karate.  We think she’s great. I saw the Lexie shoes. I fired off a quick and first-world-shallow message to her facebook account, something along the lines of ‘saw these shoes and thought of you.. tee hee’. And as happens with Lexie, within a few sentences, we were discussing the bigger issues in life. Education is topical today because of this article.   We agree that something needs to change in our schools.  At the end of our quick exchange, she sent me something I HAVE to share with you.

Please watch. Share. This. All the yes. This is exactly what is needed so we can extract the human race, our beautiful, creative, questioning, thoughtful selves, from becoming, as Welby Ing so elegantly put it,
“…a ballet of Pavlov’s dogs”.

Disobedient Thinking.  Intellectual Disobedience. Don’t just sit there, think something.  Ask something. Something all your own. Or something that piggy backs off something someone else thought. Something to transcend shoes and religion and educational beaurocracy.  Because being creative really is the most beautiful precious thing we can do. It’s how problems get solved.

I was never taught that my own disobedient thinking was a “precious thing” but I did learn it.  It was the pathway to my independence, to mental freedom. It was the harbinger of self-knowledge and self-acceptance the beginning of discovery. Ing is so right. I value this precious gift, in myself and in all the children I have ever taught.

Rebels of the world unite!