Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Even as I've been writing...
...all these years, the rural Chinese family is being exploded by global economics, and faring the worse for it. The story was published by The New York Times yesterday:
Rural Exodus for Work Fractures Chinese Families by Jim Yardley.
The story is accompanied by a multi-media presentation.
What does this have to do with caregiving? You might think that I've hidden my head in a hole from international developments since my mother's intense care commenced some years ago. Not so. The situation about which the above story was written has been taking place throughout the developing world for a good decade, if not longer. It's an old story, one that's played out over and over in civilization's history. As we see in this developed country of ours, even under the best of circumstances the details of this story contribute to the marginalization of both familial and community support networks in favor of the highly symbolic and ultimately unreliable and inadequate need for, you've got it, money.
The birth pangs of a Brave New World? I don't think so. This type of splintering of caregiver networks has been going on since the dawn of civilization (meaning, since the invention of agriculture). Considering our own world in light of this millennial movement, we should be firmly ensconced in the Brave New World, now. How about it, people, do you consider this world of ours brave, or new?
A couple of nights ago my mother and I watched the Inside the Actor's Studio broadcast of a 2004 interview with George Carlin. His take is that humanity appears to have proven itself pretty much a doomed species but being so is certainly an interesting pasttime in which to participate. I have to agree with him. I've never believed that the death means failure. How can it, since mortality is programmed into everything we perceive, including our planet? I think, though, that as our species continues we are listing ourselves among the first ranks of catastrophic conditions that wreak violent (in terms of the entire life of our planet, and, for that matter, the universe) changes upon its host. I'm not sure how I feel about being one of this species. It is simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. What I do think is that as a species we may not completely die out but we've certainly proven that we're capable of extraordinary, ultimately thoughtless catalysis and we'll probably take out most of ourselves, as well as quite a few other species and planetary conditions, before we begin our next chapter in The Great Adventure of Existence.
Science teaches us that something will occur in place of us. On an individual level it seems to be a directive of our fate to be aware, in arrears, of our power. Yet by another fateful directive we are unable to grasp this well enough to understand the consequences of what we do with our power until we are meeting those consequences head on. Do you think that developing, and, for that matter, developed nations of humans want, or even expect, to fracture their familial and community bedrock? Of course not. But we do it anyway, all the while thinking we've got a bead on the best way to survive.
In the end, it is those few in touch with the nirvana of existence who prosper, so to speak. They see the humor and ecstasy in it all and choose to continue willingly. The rest of us scramble for the next hand or foothold, even as the rocks of our family and community become dislodged and fall away beneath us, making it harder to find the next hold.
I'm letting The Mom sleep in this morning, trying to avoid a repeat of yesterday, but it's time to begin rousing her.
Later.
Rural Exodus for Work Fractures Chinese Families by Jim Yardley.
The story is accompanied by a multi-media presentation.
What does this have to do with caregiving? You might think that I've hidden my head in a hole from international developments since my mother's intense care commenced some years ago. Not so. The situation about which the above story was written has been taking place throughout the developing world for a good decade, if not longer. It's an old story, one that's played out over and over in civilization's history. As we see in this developed country of ours, even under the best of circumstances the details of this story contribute to the marginalization of both familial and community support networks in favor of the highly symbolic and ultimately unreliable and inadequate need for, you've got it, money.
The birth pangs of a Brave New World? I don't think so. This type of splintering of caregiver networks has been going on since the dawn of civilization (meaning, since the invention of agriculture). Considering our own world in light of this millennial movement, we should be firmly ensconced in the Brave New World, now. How about it, people, do you consider this world of ours brave, or new?
A couple of nights ago my mother and I watched the Inside the Actor's Studio broadcast of a 2004 interview with George Carlin. His take is that humanity appears to have proven itself pretty much a doomed species but being so is certainly an interesting pasttime in which to participate. I have to agree with him. I've never believed that the death means failure. How can it, since mortality is programmed into everything we perceive, including our planet? I think, though, that as our species continues we are listing ourselves among the first ranks of catastrophic conditions that wreak violent (in terms of the entire life of our planet, and, for that matter, the universe) changes upon its host. I'm not sure how I feel about being one of this species. It is simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. What I do think is that as a species we may not completely die out but we've certainly proven that we're capable of extraordinary, ultimately thoughtless catalysis and we'll probably take out most of ourselves, as well as quite a few other species and planetary conditions, before we begin our next chapter in The Great Adventure of Existence.
Science teaches us that something will occur in place of us. On an individual level it seems to be a directive of our fate to be aware, in arrears, of our power. Yet by another fateful directive we are unable to grasp this well enough to understand the consequences of what we do with our power until we are meeting those consequences head on. Do you think that developing, and, for that matter, developed nations of humans want, or even expect, to fracture their familial and community bedrock? Of course not. But we do it anyway, all the while thinking we've got a bead on the best way to survive.
In the end, it is those few in touch with the nirvana of existence who prosper, so to speak. They see the humor and ecstasy in it all and choose to continue willingly. The rest of us scramble for the next hand or foothold, even as the rocks of our family and community become dislodged and fall away beneath us, making it harder to find the next hold.
I'm letting The Mom sleep in this morning, trying to avoid a repeat of yesterday, but it's time to begin rousing her.
Later.
