Homeostasis and Emergence

It’s autumn here in Northern California. The days are sunny and very warm, yet there is crispness in the air that speaks of the coming of change in seasons. I love this time as one season melds into another.   Yes, there is the official solstice and  can we really locate, from an experiential perspective, that precise moment when “summer” ends and “autumn” begins?

Thinking about the cycles of our natural world always brings Brian Swimme to my mind. Swimme is a mathematical cosmologist and the Director of the Center for the Story of the Universe at California Institute of Integral Studies. He’s written a number of books on cosmology, evolution and religion. There are several DVD series that feature Swimme’s ideas, my favorite being “Canticles to the Cosmos.” For more on Brian Swimme go here: http://www.brianswimme.org/.

I am an avid fan of Brian Swimme. I “met” him for the first time on the Phil Donohue Show over 20 years ago. He was speaking about quarks, which had just been discovered and his enthusiasm on the subject was completely infectious. I’ve been a devotee ever since.

Swimme offers fascinating ideas about a variety of opposing forces that govern the universe. The tension between these opposing forces both keep things moving forward and hold things in place. One of my favorite of these opposing forces is the dance between homeostasis and emergence.

Homeostasis. . .that natural universal tendency to keep things as they are, unchanging and stable. Emergence, the opposing force of the universe to expand, to grow, to. . .well. . .EMERGE.

You can see the balance of homeostasis and emergence all over the place in the natural world. A tiny new plant, straining with all it’s might to emerge, to break through the soil and GROW. The soil, with equal focus, committed to staying right where it is. The soil’s resistance strengthens the plant’s commitment. They work together in tension and harmony.

I see this balance expressed in people all the time as well. The younger generation must rebel. It’s essential that they think that the old folks don’t know where it’s at and that they (the young ones) are onto something really new. It’s a given that the older generation must scratch their heads and wonder what the world is coming to and when the youngsters are going to wise up and become more mature. . .more. . .like THEM.

I remember back a few years ago to the era of the baggy pants. . .That time when it was oh so fashionable to wear jeans with the crotch hanging down to about the knees and the waist band just skimming the top of the hips. And for the height of cool, it was great to have a pair of boxers (striped seemed to be most popular) peeking out over the waistband of the pants.

This was a trying time for me. I came of age during the era of the PEGGED pants. Remember those? The Beatles had just come on the scene and we all took IN the side seams of our jeans so that our pants fit like a second skin. I can remember wearing jeans so tight that getting them zipped was a group effort.  My sisters and I used to help each other.    One at a time, each of us would lie down on the bed and all three of us would heave ho to  until the zipper finally closed.  Tight!

So here comes the era of the baggy pants and here comes my adorable, precious, BUFF nephew with his pants baggy as a pillowcase and the seat swinging round about his knees.

I want you to know that it took quite a bit of self management to keep my hands in place. I wanted to rush over to him and give those pants just one good jerk. . .UP. . .so that everything was where it belonged. A pithy question pressed at my lips and I ached to ask him just exactly where he thought his pants were GOING and did he have a sense of when they would STOP. (Echoes of my mother’s voice whispered through my mind.)

I didn’t do either of those things. I’m not HIS parent. I’m not even A parent. I am Auntie K who lives in Northern California, drinks herbal tea and reads tarot cards. Auntie K who does this weird thing on the telephone called “coaching” (but it’s not about sports) and who is safe to talk to about most anything. . .because she’s NOT a parent. . .she’s Auntie K and that is a fine thing.

I have a job to do in this sweet boy’s life. . .in lives of each of my nieces and nephews. . .that being something to the effect of encouraging their pants to travel in whatever direction feels most right to them and as far and maybe even just a bit farther than they can imagine.

Most of the time, they don’t notice me much. And every now and then, I’ll get an email or a call or one of them will sidle up to me and ask a question or begin a conversation.

That’s fine with me. I’m sort of like a rare kitchen appliance. . .like those fork things you stick in the end of corn on the cob. Most of the time they just hang out in the drawer. And when you NEED them, it’s really, really good that they are there.

My sweet nephew, Phoenix born and raised, is on his way to college next year. He is breathtakingly cool. He really is. And I can feel in him the aching to bust loose. I know in order to emerge, some of the cool will have to go.  I find myself wildly curious as to how that process will unfold.

Why did my sisters and I wear our pants so tight?  I mean, it took quite a bit of effort to get them ON.   Well, because everyone else was doing it.  I imagine that’s true for the baggy pants era as well.   Homeostasis or emergence? Can we locate that precise moment when emergence ends and homeostasis takes over? Does it really matter?
KKH