Human behaviour when in groups....as observed by a Fly on the Wall

 

Testaments according to the Flies on the Wall

 

Entry number 23750 as recorded by Fly "Buzz ZK681"

 

My mission; to observe human behaviour when in groups.

First: human beings seem to behave very differently depending upon the size of the group they belong to.

Second: once a group is established, it somehow becomes, (what appears to me to be) a "bubble".

Bubble one: Family, a group consisting of adults and mini humans. This bubble varies in size, and what happens within this bubble, seems to be very complex. But what seems to be the same for most, is that this is a very strong bubble.

Next I observed the many bubbles that the mini humans encountered at a place they call "school".

Using their own terms, there was the "Geek" bubble, the "Nerd" bubble, the "Cool Group" bubble, the "Jock" bubble, the "Alternate" bubble, and the "Don't fit in" bubble, and outside of these bubbles, there were some humans who didn't seem to belong to a bubble at all. (They seemed to provide their own, very individual bubbles.)

Those instructing these mini humans seemed to have their own bubbles as well; the "teachers" bubble, the "administrations" bubble, and the "caretakers/janitors/cleaners" bubble.

All these bubbles, seemed to have one thing in common: to belong, the members were expected to behave according to the rules of that particular bubble.

When observing the adult humans, it became apparent to me, that just like the mini humans, they too have bubbles they belong to. There are too many for me to mention, so I will mention a few: The "work mate" bubbles, the "friendship" bubbles, the "sports groups" bubbles, the "club" bubbles, the "religious" bubbles, the "political" bubbles, the "art" bubbles, and so on. Human beings seem to need to belong to some or another kind of bubble. My observation is that belonging to a bubble seems to strengthen those within the bubble.

Many of the bubbles at times intersect, sometimes peacefully, but at other times, with much hostility.

If I may simplify: There are a great many different varieties of "political" and "religious" bubbles, but often each bubble seem convinced that their particular bubble is the only true/right one, so when they bump into each other they often fortify their own bubbles rather than open them up and make a larger bubble. My observation is that humans feel most at ease within the familiarity of their own bubbles, so engaging with "outside/different thinking" bubbles, is often viewed as quite disturbing and unsettling.

On the other hand, there also seem to be bubbles that invite other bubbles to merge with them.

Bubbles that consist of humans who seek to embrace cooperation, the exchange of ideas, the discovery of alternate methods and approaches, new ways of communication, and effective and helpful means for a harmonious coexistence for all. 

From an observers point of view, how human beings function in a large group, seem to depend much on how they experienced belonging to their first bubble; their family.

If they felt cherished and secure in their families, then they seem to be able to encounter other "bubbles" confidently and compassionately. If, on the other hand, their experiences within their own families were those of rejection, neglect and lovelessness, then belonging to any bubble may appear risky and uncertain. (Paradoxically, the lack of security, consistency and love, often appears to play a role in bubbles offering strict rules and dedicated obedience, (such as cults, gangs, armed forces, etc.) seem very enticing /inviting for humans with a conflicted/complex/loveless experience of their families.)

My conclusion: Human beings seem to need to belong. To a family, to a group of likeminded, to an organisation, to a sports club, to a faith system, to a political ideology, to a group of friends, to a people, to a nation, to a planet.......

The ability to cooperate and to be compassionate; strengths of mankind, the lapses thereof; the bane of mankind.

 

 

On the importance of Trees..........

 

On the way to the Conservatorium of Music, I had to pass a corner of the Botanical Gardens.

Usually I was running late and barely noticed the big trees situated at that corner, but on an extremely hot day, I was just too hot to rush. Carrying heavy bags and with salty sweat  almost blinding me, I stopped under the shade of the trees. Much to my amazement, the temperature under the trees was considerably more endurable. I put down my heavy bags, closed my eyes, and just stood there breathing. I had read somewhere that trees are the "lungs" of nature, and on that blistering hot day, this seemed true to me. A few minutes of deep breaths, and I felt renewed.

I also felt a renewed admiration for trees and realised how easy it can be to take trees for granted and forget just how important they are.

 

Imagine for a moment,

this planet without trees...

what do you see?

 

If there were no trees:

 

Where would birds nest,

weary wings get to rest,

where would bees hang their hives,

cocoons wait to become butterflies?

 

Where would rain drenched horses, sheep and cattle,

men exhausted but still in the saddle,

find a moment to just be still

but under a trees majestic covering?

 

Where would boys build their imaginary castles,

live out their pretend but fearsome battles,

girls swing all the way to the sky,

giddily feeling as if they really could fly?

 

(Under a tree, Newton found a great idea,

although to begin, not all did agree.)

 

Where would we be without the trees?

Would we know the caress of a summer's breeze,

or the magnificent colours of autumn leaves?

Would know sweetness, juicy and rich,

were it not for apples and oranges, cherries and peach?

 

Trees provide shelter, shade, and food,

they provide stability with their solid roots,

they give us oxygen so that we can breathe,

many are the gifts, from the trees we receive.

(Citizen Z)

 

"Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me!" (Herman Hesse, extract from "Trees. Reflections and Poems")

 

The value of expressing yourself........

 

“If you could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.” Words  attributed to the American painter, Edward Hopper. Perhaps some words can be added: "If you could say it in words, there would be no reason to dance, to make music, to sculpt, to build amazing structures, to explore the road less travelled."

Self-expression. Merriam-Webster: "the expression of your thoughts or feelings especially through artistic activities (such as painting, writing, dancing, etc.")

Is self-expression important, and does it necessarily have to involve artistic activities?

In my opinion, ...no.., human activities and behaviours of most kinds, more often than not, involve some form of self-expression of which speech (including braille and sign language), is probably the most common form. Words, as effective as they are for expressing our thoughts and feelings, sometimes can be misunderstood, or misinterpreted.

It is generally agreed by most that human beings have an innate need for connecting with others, and commonly, we do this through sharing our thoughts and feelings. Although, for some of us, this may not be an easy thing to do. As a kid, I found it very difficult to verbalise my thoughts and feelings, not because I couldn't find the "right" words, but because I was afraid of how my words would be received. "What-if's" kept popping up: "what if I what I say makes him/her angry? what if they laugh at me? what if I am misunderstood? what if I have misunderstood the situation?" and so on. So more often than not, I said nothing. What I did do, was to sit down at the piano and play, or listen to some music. Through music, I was able to express my thoughts and emotions.

When, or if, words seem insufficient for expressing what is happening inside of us, some of us seek to express ourselves through other means. Some of us go to the gym, go for a run, do some gardening, get creative in the kitchen, watch a movie, play a computer game, read a book, or do something "artistic" such as play an instrument, paint, draw, dance, write, sculpt, photography, etc..

According to mental health research, expressing ourselves is both emotionally and physically beneficial. "Talking about it" either with words and/or some other "life affirming" way, can be an effective way to "unburden" ourselves, to externalize some of our inner goings-on. Perhaps one can think of it as "emotional sneezing"?  Something is "up your nose"(crowding your mind) so your body tells you to.... "sneeze"? Signs of "over-crowding" may be: anxiety, sleeplessness, head-ache, fatigue, apathy, irritation, frustration, to mention a few. If you find yourself feeling irritated with most everything most of the time, is it possible that there is something you need to get of your chest? If you find yourself getting angry and frustrated over the smallest things and don't really know why, is it possible that there may be something you need to talk about? If you find yourself feeling "down" most days and you are not sure as to the reason why, is it possible that there may be someone who could help you find that reason if you shared your concerns with him/her?

Trying to cope with the sudden loss of one of my closest friends, Anders, a Swedish jazz guitarist, I found that neither words nor music, seemed to help. I needed to "sneeze", but somehow I just couldn't. In desperation I decided to try something different. I grabbed a carton with a dozen raw eggs from the fridge, went into the garden, found myself a huge tree, and then proceeded to launch them, one at the time, at the tree. As I threw the eggs, with each egg I screamed: "I hate that you are gone! I am angry with you for dying! This isn't fair!" and other words similar to that effect. When the carton was empty, I had "sneezed" twelve times and as I watched the gooey mess on the tree slither down the trunk, I felt oddly, but thankfully, relieved of some of my "over-crowding".

Interestingly, when something "good" happens, such as a boon of some sort, we can't wait to share it: "It's a boy/girl!, I won the lottery, I got promoted, we sold the house, I bought a house, I got a scholarship, our team won", etc..etc.. but when something "bad" happens, we are often encouraged to "play our cards close to the chest". (It may be different in other cultures, but generally speaking, in Western societies, we seem to tend to "endure" hardships behind closed doors.)

There is a growing body of research showing that talking about our worries and fears lessens their impact, suggesting that by verbalizing them we become better at managing them.  Expressing our feelings and thoughts may be experienced by some of us as potentially becoming more vulnerable, on the other hand, by expressing ourselves we may also forge new friendships, deeper connections, and discover alternate ways of expressions beyond the limitations of words.

 

“Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.” (Sigmund Freud)

 

“Everyone has their own ways of expression. I believe we all have a lot to say, but finding ways to say it is more than half the battle.” (Criss Jami)

The human mating ritual as viewed by a Fly on the Wall.....

 

Testaments according to the Flies on the Wall

                                  Entry Number 23749 as recorded by Fly "Buzz ZK471"

"So, I had a really busy day, you know, buzzing about all over the place. The sun went down and the night crept in like a cat on the prowl. I was stationed at this home way out in the sticks, like, what the humans call the countryside. In this home lived a man and a woman and two mini humans; one of each kind; boy and girl, I think they call them. There was a lot of activities taking place; the man sat on the couch and drank some sort of bubbly drink, beer, I think its called, and the boy and the girl were both sitting infront of some sort of screens, madly typing. The woman was in my favourite room; the kitchen, and she was doing things with food that emitted smells that almost drove me crazy with desire. Okay, so, the woman put the lovely smelling food on plates, and all of the humans sat down around a table.

                                 The man drank some more beer, the woman kept getting up and down from the table while talking to the boy and the girl; although it sounded more like she was handing out instructions of some sort rather than conversing.  The boy and the girl seemed to ignore her, and only the occasional "yes" or "no" was spoken by them. Every now and then, the man would say: "Listen to your mother", then continue eating his food and drinking his beer in silence. The mother collected the empty plates when this ritual was over and done with, the boy and girl went back to their screens, and the man to the couch. In the kitchen, (such an amazing place, why humans don't hang out there 24/7 is beyond me!) the mother silently washed, rinsed, and removed all the nice smelling items, .... down to the last speck (sadly), and when that was done, she joined the man on the couch. (Not that I am a connoisseur or anything, but, all that wonderful food and the humans just gulp it down? I mean, every morsel must have been a delight.)

                       The boy and the girl retired to their own special rooms; I did some reconnaissance but they both just went back to their screens again. I sat on the wall in both rooms for a while, but got bored, so I flew downstairs to the room with the woman and the man in it.

                          Well, something interesting was going on there. I think they had began some sort of mating ritual. The man had one arm around the woman, the other on her knee, and they spoke with very hushed voices. Suddenly the man stood up, the woman giggled, and hand in hand they walked up the stairs to the room humans call the "bedroom". I followed. I found myself a good spot on the wall, and watched.        The man undressed, threw his clothes on the floor, and the woman did the same. They slid under the covers, and a lot of activity began. (Since it was under the covers, I couldn't really see what they were doing, but they seemed to be having a lot of fun.)

             Suddenly the woman told the man to turn off the light. This started a peculiar interaction: "Henry, turn off the light, please." "Why, Olivia?" said the man. "Henry, just turn it off". "But I like doing it with the light on, Olivia." "Henry, unless you turn the light off, I wont go on." "But Olivia, you are beautiful, and I like to see your beauty." "Henry, you know how self-conscious I am of the extra pounds I have put on, so, please turn off the light." This carried on for a bit, but eventually the man gave in, and the light was turned off. (At this stage I decided to find myself a comfortable ledge to sit on, because my legs had become tired from clinging to the wall, so I found a nice bit of frame on a painting, and sat down.) The activity under the covers resumed. Gradually it became more and more vigorous, and then it just stopped. (???)

               The man turned on his side, and within minutes, he had started to snore. Then something very puzzling happened; the woman turned away from the man, and assisted by the moonlight, I saw glistening pearls of tears trickling down her face. 

Comment: Human mating rituals bewilder me. Sometimes it involves the exchange of money, sometimes it involves violence, sometimes it involves strange clothing and peculiar accessories, sometimes it involves men on men and women on women, sometimes it involves more than two people, sometimes it involves drugs and alcohol, not to mention all the very varied and different environments where it takes place: on planes, in cars, in toilets, come to think of it.....it seems it can take place absolutely anywhere. On the other hand, sometimes the mating ritual seems to be gentle, sincere, loving, and very, very intimate. But tears? Human beings are strange.     Buzz ZK471

A "Fly on the wall" observes......

Entry number 23748 as recorded by Fly "Buzz ZK471"

 

Hanging on to the last grain of sand in the hourglass, the morning begins like the morning before, and the morning before that, and the morning before that. As if operated by a remote control, she pulls back the drapes, turns on the kettle, and feeds the cat.     The sun is putting on a valiant effort to break through the dark grey clouds, heavily ladened with the threat of rain. Teacup in hand, she stands infront of the bay window. Wearing her old canary yellow bathrobe now three sizes too big, her white hair ruffled, and her alabaster white feet barely showing; she seems more like a new sprung chick than a seasoned human being.

 

She takes another sip of the milky tea, then lets out a resigned sigh: "How all the years did fly by". As if from another planet, one far, far away, another jet takes off across the dismal sky.

The cat wants out after having devoured his morning menu, the washing needs doing, the roses pruning, and her Walter's grave, a tidy-up. Slowly, but surely, and with much precision, she makes the bed, combs her hair, brushes her teeth, then choose what to wear.

 

Standing infront of the hallway mirror, she begins a conversation: "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, all those years, months, weeks and hours, what happened to them all?" She sighs then continues: "What I see, I know is supposed to be me, but all I can see, is an old weathered woman, yes, faded remnants of what used to be me." The mirror is cold, silent and shallow, it offers no words, no comfort, no wisdom. What she sees, is an unfortunate collision, of that which was, that which is, and that, which could have been.

 

"Let me tell you this", she says to the mirror, "I'm still me, and that's all there is".

 

A smirk spreads across her pale and weathered face, but in her eyes there is fire, infused with flecks of grace. Suddenly she hurries back into her bedroom, throws open the wardrobe door, pulls out a box marked "Walter" and throws it on the floor.  "There you are!" she says holding up a colourful scarf, "I thought I lost you down at the wharf!"

She drapes the scarf around her neck, then giggles: "Remember Walter, those really wild nights, those nights in Quebec?"

With a spring in her step, and Walter's scarf around her neck, she opens all her windows, pulls up all the dreary blinds, turns on the music, and does a little dance.

 

Who knows how many grains an hourglass contains, but for this old woman, one still remains.

 

Comment: Human beings are strange. Buzz ZK471