The 14 Year-Old Universe
Our daughter had to travel to Kansas City on business this past week, which meant that we (or more correctly, my wife) had to do a little “babysitting” for our two grandsons. I’ve put “babysitting” in quotes because, well, they’re definitely not babies anymore. One is 14 and the other is 11. The “little tykes” have become much larger, much taller teenage wannabes, and come completely equipped with obnoxiousness, bad jokes, and smartphones. Kind of a scary combination when you think about it.
Still, like all teenagers, they do throw out some really good questions once in a while. Occasionally, from time to time, a serious thought actually manages to find its way into their still relatively small frontal lobes. And then they hit you with a question or observation that kind of makes you think that they might actually make it to rational adulthood. Hope springs anew that perhaps they won’t have to spend the rest of their lives flipping burgers at McDonald’s. Maybe there actually is a thinking person in there somewhere, trying to escape the intellectually limited world of computers and video games and smartphones. Maybe they will, in fact, find something more meaningful in life than writing 10,000 texts a day to other equally silly juveniles. I use the term “writing”, by the way, in the loosest possible way.
Anyway, here is the question we heard from Mr. 14: How could the world (or universe) possibly have existed before I did? If I wasn’t here, then how could anything else have been here? If I wasn’t personally “aware” of the world then how could it have even existed? And then quickly followed by a second one: Why am I “me”? Why aren’t I someone else?
Existential questions from a 14 year-old. The notion that events in history - like World War II or the American Revolution (or anything else pre-1999) - really occurred simply doesn’t compute for him. In a way, I suppose that’s not surprising. Kids tend to think of themselves as universe – centric, I think. The world, by definition, revolves around them. And that’s normal. It’s the only way that a young mind can make sense of the world. Being able to see yourself as a very small cog in a very, very large universe takes a lot of years. You know, the old grain of sand in the desert metaphor. But young boys don’t (can’t) see that. It’s not part of their experience or language. Which probably explains why it’s so hard to communicate with them.
Still, a very interesting question. Not to mention tough to answer. Well, at least the first one seems tough. The second one not quite so much. You were “you”, I said, the instant you were conceived. Your DNA was set. You can still make your own decisions and find your own path, I said, but in a lot of ways the biological dice had already been rolled. You couldn’t have become anyone else, just as they couldn’t have become you.
“But what if I’d had a different mother?”, he asked. Then there never would have been a “you”, I answered. If I had never been born or if I’d married someone else or if your mother or father had married someone else, there wouldn’t be a “you”. “You” would be someone else. They would exist and “you” would not. “You” exist only because the people on both sides of your family are who they are. Change any one of us and you and your brother simply don’t happen.
Not surprisingly, that explanation seemed to confuse him. Heck, I was getting confused. Maybe, I thought, we should both just watch “It’s a Wonderful Life”. Maybe Jimmy Stewart could explain it better than I can.
As for the first question, I had no answer he could easily accept. I could only say that all the stuff that’s happened in the world - before he was born - did really happen. Dinosaurs existed. Rome fell. The U. S. fought and won World War II. JFK was assassinated in 1963. We landed on the moon in 1969. (Interestingly, he has a teacher who doesn’t believe that. He believes that the moon landing was a hoax. And the school hired him?)
All to no avail. He still can’t imagine a world existing without him in it. I could only ask him what he thought was going to happen to the rest of the world (and universe) when he died. He looked at me like I was insane. I’d forgotten – 14 year old kids are “immortal”. Mortality is another of those words that doesn’t compute yet for him. Life will go on forever.
Until it doesn’t.
Pretty “heady” comments for a 14 year old…and I agree, encouraging. On the existence question, I guess I have to ask him if he exist today for those to be born tomorrow or in the future. I look forward to experiencing these moment in the future with our grandchildren.
Yes, encouraging, Earl, but I have to emphasize that these moments don’t last very long – at least not yet. Before you can blink, it seems, he’s back to the smartphone answering yet another “important” message or checking Facebook.
I can guarantee that you’ll enjoy your grandchildren’s growth. It’s both different and the same as watching your own kids grow up. Different because you can walk out the door and go home any time you want (mostly) and the same because they are just as much a part of you as your own kids. And you have a uniquely different perspective – you’re older and (hopefully) a lot wiser.
Existential, indeed! Sounds like he’s already broken free of the Computer/videogame/Smartphone mind numbing influence. He should be encouraged to continue to ask questions. And remind him to always…question authority!
I don’t know about “broken free”, John. Video games maybe – he doesn’t play those very much anymore. But the phone is like another physical appendage. If you take it away from him it’s like you’ve amputated an arm or something. But jeez, they do ask lots of questions! Some of them are about dumb stuff they’ve seen on TV (like “Ancient Aliens”), but others indicate a real curiosity about the world they see around them.
Hmm… this brings back memories. I kind of hope, for his sake, that those existential questions get replaced with more practical ones. I was seven when I started asking those questions and haven’t stopped since and in hindsight they have served no real purpose beyond entertainment value. Interestingly though, I still continue to be entertained by the whole existential search. I guess it’s in my nature; I continue to seek what needs not be sought. One thing I have found though, is that no combination of words will ever answer those types of questions and too many words only lead to confusion. At best words can point to where an answer may lie but it’s up to each individual to make their way there; on their own. Something that can take a lifetime to do if it’s ever done at all.
Your photo looks almost surreal; like a photorealistic painting. The lawns look out of place which, I guess, is what makes the scene look a little surreal. I always wonder why people like lawns. I get meadows and fields of tall grasses but I don’t get lawns. They use a lot of water and require so much maintenance.
I think you’re absolutely right – he’s going to have to find the answers himself. What seems to vex him the most is the idea that the world existed before he did. He’s brought that up a number of times. I remember being utterly shocked the first time he asked. It’s a question that has never perplexed me one little bit. The questions that have always bothered me seem to be religious in nature (my mother was very religious and we used to argue incessantly; no one ever “won”, of course).
Yes, lawns are puzzling things. Years ago, I too was a suburban “lawnkeeper”. Worked all week and then took care of the damn lawn on weekends. Water it, feed it, and kill all the bugs. And then mow it. In hindsight, a silly waste of time. Not to mention money. But grass in the desert – this picture was taken near Page, AZ – is absolutely ludicrous. It has to be watered constantly. It just doesn’t belong there. I’m sure they do it for the tourists. The “tourists”, of course, tend to get a little upset when they’re walking along on the sidewalk and the sprinklers turn on. Funny to watch, though. Back here in good old Webster lawns are looked after as if they were cash crops. In fact, if you don’t take care of it your neighbors are likely to give you a little grief for bringing property values down.
I was drawn to this image because of the young woman, with the camera, and her baby. She and her daughter, along with the hydrant and baby buggy, make an interesting line (in my opinion). The light was also interesting. As you say, kind of “surreal”.
The feeling that the universe only comes into existence when we become aware of it and ends with our death is more common than you might imagine. The concept is open to a number of contradictions and paradoxes which are immediately obvious and which is probably why most people brush off such feelings as nonsense. All the same, the feeling can be quite strong with some people, especially when this realisation comes to the young (perhaps, as you point out, because the young have a strong sense of everything revolving around them. Interestingly children up to the age of two have no sense of being separate from anything. The so-called “terrible twos” occurs when they start seeing themselves as a separate being).
The thing about our universe is that it is paradoxical in nature and there is evidence that how we perceive the world is, at least to some extent, illusionary. Time is one such concept and it looks like our ideas of space are not quite as clear-cut as we first thought.
It’s worth remembering that just because a concept creates a paradox it should not be written off out-of-hand. The paradox may just be there due to our inability to conceive the possibility that two contradictory states can occur at the same time and in the same space. This is not to say that your grandson is right but rather that the universe is enough of a huge question mark that we should all accept the possibility (as unlikely as it may seem to us) that everything is not as it seems and that for all we know, anything is indeed possible.