Philosophical Archives - Page 4 of 4 - Margôt Tesch, Writer

Category Archives for "Philosophical"

Musings about the human condition, life and it’s mysteries. I’m intrigued by the passion of humans to hold onto beliefs, even when they seem apparently irrational. What makes us moral? How can we be better human beings.

February 5, 2014

Change is in the Wind

The Lodge

The Lodge

Have you ever thought much about the generational gap? Does it really exist in this information age with new emerging technologies?

This Christmas just gone, Chris and I had the extreme pleasure of flying across the globe to spend a week with our four children, their partners and our grandchildren in the Arctic Circle in northern Finland. We stayed together in a “lodge”. We planned the event over three years and were thrilled to have such a special, treasured opportunity.

It was the first time we had all been together in the one dwelling with our children as adults, the eldest 32 and the youngest 24, with their partners. There was much to think about when I came home, most of it warm family memories. But I was also moved to contemplate my role in life as grandmother, anew.

Uncle Danny

Uncle Danny

I’m 56 now, a well-adjusted empty-nester. I pride myself on staying abreast of change and remaining relevant to the younger generation. I accept changing cultural values as inevitable, embrace them even. I perceive my children as being not much different from me, though I’ve been aware at times that they may not share this same sense of equality. It seemed easy to delude myself … because deluding myself I was.

Being with the family for such an intensive period was actually a little confronting. For the first part, both Chris and I were a little shocked at the change in our social status within our “tribe”. Chris really put his finger on it when we got home. They don’tneed us anymore. Wow. That’s good, but also confronting.

Warm Family memories

Warm Family memories

But further reflection on the week had the impact of unveiling my delusion that the generational gap didn’t really exist for me. It is as wide and broad as it has always been and I’ve been extremely naive to think that it wasn’t. Of course the kids were never under any such delusions.

The best example I can think to demonstrate the point is … it’s all in the ‘wind’. Wind is a topic my generation is most likely to avoid and yet it’s a topic our children don’t avoid, but accept openly. Actually they haven’t even grown out of finding it hilariously funny! Of course I’m talking about … farting!

I’ve witnessed this change and thought I’d accepted it openly as I watched the younger generation’s open honesty about their bodily functions. They give due warning when unpleasant smells are involved, display a willingness to take ownership for the most part, when accusations are raised. It all seems so much healthier than our ‘pretend it didn’t happen’ approach which borders on complete denial. ‘Fart’ was a very rude word, even taboo, when I grew up. Even now, though its usage is pervasive, the word still grates.

After living with our children for a week, I came away realising that while I accept these changing cultural practices and am no doubt more relaxed than my parents, I don’t really partake in them. I continue to stoically remain in the tradition in which I was raised. The children, sensing our different perspective, never really share with us the same way they share with each other. It’s an instinct, I guess. (Wasn’t I the same? … der!)

New Year's Eve Antics

New Year’s Eve Antics

So there you have it … the generational gap. It’s alive and kicking and always will be. I’m sure my kids were never in any doubt, more fool me.
The experience made me think about how we must so imbibe the value systems of our time as we grow up that they become part of our fibre. (No wonder the social science research centres identify unique names for each generation.) Of course I acknowledge that it must be possible to change but … it’s darned hard, harder than I realised. Perhaps it’s not worth the effort for such a relatively trivial topic … or is it? I wonder if I had the courage to pull down some old boundaries, where it might lead? Do I want to? Should I?

No, I’ve elected to remain comfortably settled in my Baby Boomber status. I will never breach the generational gap … and that’s okay. It’s the natural order of things. But, I still can’t help wondering how far the next generation might take this freedom of expression? I hope I at least get a peak, as it will be very interesting to see indeed.

Life goes on and though changing cultural values emerge with each generation, the fact that the older generation struggle to adapt, shall never change.
In the meantime, I shall remain as open and communicative a Baby Boomer as possible.

August 19, 2013


Max comes to visit

Max comes to visit

We have just experienced the interesting opportunity over the last three weeks, of hosting a young 16-year-old lad from Germany. Max, the nephew of a very good friend of mine, wanted to have a farm experience during his summer holidays. We planned it several months in advance.

Apart from enjoying having someone to look after for a little while (the tragic empty-nester syndrome) having Max in the house, whose first language is not English, has given me an opportunity to see my language and culture in a new light. Max’s English (currently B but he hopes to turn it into an A next year) is very good but of course we use many colloquialisms, not taught in the classroom, and we are totally unaware that we use them.

Max on the Bobcat

Max on the Bobcat

For example, we were out working on a fence. Max was busy putting on droppers, a task he had just learned how to do. I asked him “Are you getting the hang of it?” He didn’t answer. I reflected on my choice of words (as I’ve had to do often over the last few weeks). Why the hell do we use the word “hang” in that context? Weird. But there are lots of examples just like that. For example, we use “ridiculous” and “hilarious” in not quite the same way those words were originally intended. He had to adjust to “Hi” and “Righto”.
Another example is “Good on you!” What does that mean exactly? Funny when you stop to think about it.

Max building

Max building

All this has reinforced an appreciation of a definition of language I read some time ago while studying my Master of Arts. “Language is an agreement within a social group as to the meaning of a word” [Umberto Eco]. We take our language for granted in Australia, particularly, I think because we rarely hear any other languages day to day, especially in the bush. I realise this is maybe changing in the city.

Max also made me look at my own prejudice towards Aboriginals … a prejudice I would have denied vehemently that I held. But prejudices can be so deeply ingrained in our culture that it’s “normal”, and we don’t “see” them. It came about while watching a news program and a young aboriginal woman was exhorting other young aboriginal women to follow her example in joining the armed forces. I made a derogatory comment about her use of the English language when I heard her say “Other womens should get out there and have a go”. Max challenged me by pointing out that English is not her first language. My quick retort was, “Yes, but she was born in Australia.” I didn’t think much about it at the time, but my mind kept coming back to it. My self-reflection forced me to confront the intolerant and prejudicial nature of my retort which didn’t take into account the known disadvantages she likely encountered in her education (and life) … interesting how a visitor from another culture can make you confront attitudes.

So while we are looking forward to returning to our normal routine, Max shall be missed and he will leave me pondering the use of language, culture and world perspectives. We have certainly had some very interesting conversations!

Been MOOC’d Lately?

In making the leap from the corporate office to running a cattle property, I had to go through numerous adjustments … as you can imagine.

My Office Window

My Office Window

My work at Virgin Blue was implementing change at the corporate level. I was bumping heads with strong-willed general managers. It was extremely intellectually challenging to navigate their ambitions yet change their ways of working to help consolidate a young, fast growing company.

In coming to Spring Creek, I missed the fiery, stimulating intellectual debate my relationships at VB had afforded me. I’ve had to look for new avenues for intellectual stimulation.

It’s not that living in the bush isn’t intellectually challenging at times. You are more often than not drawn into significant problem solving – the dozer stuck in a dam, the fallen windmill that has to be re-erected … and these are more frequent occurrences than most would like.

But … it’s different.

Then I discovered MOOC’s (Massive Open On-line Courses)! They are brilliant. They are delivered over the internet, they’re free and they’re university standard.

Cute Jewish Professor

Cute Jewish Professor

I’ve just finished my first one: Neurons, Synapses and the Brain. I sat in my remote farm house, looking out across the paddock, listening to a cute Jewish professor instruct me on the intricacies of neuroscience – at the perfect level for my current understanding. Brilliant!

Discovering has definitely filled a hole for me. I now understand the current thinking and research on the workings of the brain. Why do I want to know about that, you ask?

Of course it isn’t just for the pure fun of it … it’s research for my second book, Mind Minders.

The dendrites of a neuron

The dendrites of a neuron

But overall, I guess it’s about finding my way in a remote, isolated community. I still want to grow and develop and learn. I want to think along new lines and explore new avenues such as … do we really have free will or are our actions dictated by the neural networks in our brain? Now that’s an interesting debate and has sparked a few conversations.

Can’t wait for my next MOOC and to see where that will lead my thinking!

Mustering – is it Fun?

Is it fun because I’m burning around the paddock on my quad bike?

Courageous bounding logs and rocks and narrowly escaping stump holes,
Chasing reluctant cows and pestering inquisitive calves when it’s time to move them on?

Is it fun because of the great Aussie bush myth?
The romantic idea of the fearless cowboy … the muscle-bound jackaroo?
Is it a connection with our historical roots, the Aussie bush pioneer who shaped our nation?

Or is it fun because of our sense of dominion?
The cows exist at our behest, grown for the sizzling steak on the great Aussie barby.
We breed them, feed them, herd them, wielding our power hither and thither?

Is it fun when we force them into the yards?
They know what’s coming, their reluctance evident in their stubbornness,
The battle more and more difficult the closer we get (our uniquely engineered funnel doesn’t trick them anymore).

Is it fun when we yell and curse and crack the whip?
Nearly ramming their backsides in our persistence and shortening temper.
We push, we prod, we yell … but … we never give up.

Is it fun because we rule supreme?
Eventually their wills give way and they jostle and push through the gates.
Captured at last in the yards, waiting to endure the day’s work.
There is no escape now.

Is it fun because the muster home is always so much easier?
It’s almost too hard to keep up as they race away, eager to get back.
Except the Mum’s that have left behind their young.
They moo and turn and moo and turn.

Is it fun because it is that battle of wills?
Us and against them, human against beast, predator against prey.
Is it fun? I’m not sure, but when all’s said and done, I’ll be back on my bike to do it all again.