Midnight Exchange

I lift it all up to You, my Lord. 

The discussions that I had with M last night was fruitful. To me, at least. And maybe in helping him understand my thoughts. I know so very little about Your works, and fail to discuss anything to complete satisfaction. It is very frustrating. 

The things we talked about. How do we see Your works in the world, when the way we see it can easily stem from a logical fallacy? This good thing has happened, therefore I rejoice because the Lord has done it. This bad thing has happened, therefore I rejoice because the Lord has done it to train me up. Anything can be from You. It is ultimately unfalsifiable. Why does it make more sense to believe that You are present? My heart says you are, but my mind cannot find proof. But that is what my mind needs to do. To find  reason. To boldly start from no assumptions. If God wasn’t there, would this still have happened? Would all this? I don’t think we can ever establish or disprove that claim. And I blame it on the chaotic nature of the systems in this world. 

Perhaps, the discussion can be boiled down to this: why do I believe in God. Why should I believe in this entity? What is my reason? Because He called me when I was still a child. And my entire life has been centred upon His will. He called, and His call was impossible to ignore. He is the tug of my conscience, the searing pain in my soul when things were not according to His will, the force behind decisions which I dread (like to hang out with people and to go through with bible study), and the gritting of my teeth when I close my eyes and throw myself into conflicts. 

And this is probably what we can ever hope for in terms of evangelism. The hope that He will call, and that the one He calls will have a softened heart. Can we do anything at all??? Perhaps that is why my heart detests hypocritical acts. It detests inactivity when there should be activity. It also detests activity when there should be inactivity. I can only move when He calls me to move. Everything, even cooking in church. Even things that seem to be quite appropriate and “holy”. We are mere vessels of salvation. Mere vessels.

But oh well, the hunt continues. Why should I believe in God? 

But I have no fear in questioning my faith. If God is true, then He will be able to withstand scrutiny. He will not let me go astray.  It is probably even my duty to figure out my faith, for blind faith is deadly. It is deadlier than no faith. 

What to do with Freud?

I suppose I jumped onto the Freudian bandwagon without thinking twice when I was younger. And now I’m stuck with this odd little dilemma. What should we make of “parent bashing” (as Lilienfeld likes to say)? Was he completely wrong? I think we should always stand on centre ground. It’s a big cliché but we must listen to all sides before coming to a judgement – yes, even to people who commune with sagacious beings in Mars.

I don’t think we should ignore the effects of parenting on children. I think that is still important. In “Unstrange Minds” by Grinker, he describes the experiments by Harlow with a certain distaste (pointedly noting that the experiments bordered on animal cruelty). In brief, Harlow studied the effects that abnormal mothering can have on baby rhesus monkeys. He replaced the mother with mechanical monkeys made of wire, cloth, with and without milk bottles etc. His results showed that monkeys deprived of their mothers were emotionally disturbed. 

Now, does this actually lend proof to Freudian ideas, as Grinker claims it did? Does it support the idea that bad mothering can cause crazy children? Yes and no. I think we should look at this clearly. What Harlow did was to provide a very distressing upbringing environment to the baby monkey. The baby has more or less been orphaned. So, I think parents who don’t provide the basic necessities and at least some sort of attention, and who abuse their children will increase the chances of emotional and psychological problems. 

But, I think the effects will be small beyond such extreme conditions. Whether your dad was stricter than usual, or your mum was more controlling. I don’t think these are the causes for psychopathologies. But they will probably have some sorta effect on the person as a whole. Take for example a series of experiments by Meaney and colleagues. They basically compared the difference between rat mothers that gave high and low levels of licking, grooming and arched-back nursing (LG-ABN) to their pups. What they found was that the children of rat mothers which gave low levels of LG-ABN showed higher stress reactivity. There is a lot more to this series of experiments and its implications are many. However, for the purpose of this topic, suffice to say that the behaviour of parents does affect the behaviour of their children. But, from these studies, it seems that the effect is not enough to account for huge modifications in personality, and certainly not enough for pathologies as the offspring of low LG-ABN mothers still exhibited normal behaviour. 

So, just to summarise: in my opinion, children brought up in terrible conditions may turn out to be psychopathological (note that they are at higher risk and not guaranteed to be dysfunctional), but other less extreme conditions (e.g. when the child begins toilet training, when they start sleeping alone etc.) will probably not push a person over the edge.

Sorry Frasier! But Freud’s out the window for me.

But I still think he's cool. 

Head over heels, again.

The uncle suggested that I compile these blog entries into a book. Ahaha.. flattery gets one everywhere. Nonetheless, the email jolted me out of hibernation. I guess I do have something to write about nowadays. Something meaningful, I mean. For the third time in my life, I am head over heels in love. No, no, not like that; the ginger is still in the picture. I am in love with the boys in the autism lab. And like so many people in love, I'm starting to bore others with stories of "just how cute they are!". But maybe "beautiful" is the better word to describe them. Beautiful faces, stunningly long lashes. I am tempted to start a study to measure the average length of the eye-lashes of autistic individuals. 18 data points right here.

The more time I spend with the boys, the more I lean away from the idea that autism is fundamentally a problem with social interactions. I think it is a linguistic problem. The inability to acquire language naturally like normal kids. And I don't think it is coincidental that so many are diagnosed around the time when kids begin to acquire language at a frighteningly rapid pace. I'm not saying that the problems starts at that point in time, I'm just saying that problems become obvious when people start realising their kids are not talking. The social aloofness and the inability to comprehend the intentions of others might be a by-product of an even more fundamental language problem.

But imagine this. Someone not being able to represent their thoughts properly with language. From birth. How will you order the world? How will you understand what is going on around you, especially when it comes to social interactions? Social interactions are completely dependent upon language. Without a structured, systematic way to represent happiness, anger, sadness, sky, moon, sun and so on, how will you be able to learn about the world?

There are other problems as well, but fundamentally, the inability to pick up language in the normal way might play a huge role in causing autism. And I can tell you this for certain. Once the kids are familiar with someone, and can vaguely understand what you're doing/saying, then they crave for contact. They are able to connect with people. They are not walls.
I, myself, loved taking afternoon strolls with one of the boys. That was our secret activity together. And he used to pretend that he needed to go to the toilet (which was quite far from the classroom) so that I would have to take him out and we usually took the long way round back to the classroom.