Interdependency

This week we had the delight of a newborn deer in our back garden. Jane and I, taking our morning soak in the hot tub watched the newborn stand for the first time, suckle, wagging its little tail furiously, and walk. Later in the day it must have jumped our three foot fence. We haven't seen it since (though we've seen the mother quite a lot).
Newborns of every kind tend bring out the best in us. "Oohs and aahs" abound, and we become sentimental. The baby is dependent on the mother for food. Perhaps it is this observed dependency that softens us to the newborn.
But it is remarkable how quickly animals find a measure of independency. Jennifer Worth, the author of the books on which the TV drama Call the Midwife is based has an interesting theory about human newborns. She says:
The helplessness of the newborn human infant has always made an impression on me. All other mammals have a certain autonomy at birth. Many animals, within an hour or two of birth, are up on their feet and running Others, at the very least, can find the nipple and suck. But the newborn baby can't even do that ... I have  theory that all human babies are born prematurely. Given the human lifespan — three score years and ten — to be comparable with other animals of similar longevity, human gestation should be about two years. (Call the Midwife, 39.)
It's an interesting observation. Human infants remain dependent for a long time.
In our culture the goal is to become independent, able to stand on your own feet, work things out for yourself, and make your own way in the world without dependency on others. The phrase "dependency culture" is used pejoratively to refer to those who never seem to make it on their own and rely on the state or charity to make it in life. Dependency gets a bad rap. Independence good—dependence bad.
Yet, I wonder if we are ever truly independent.
Philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre (of After Virtue fame) wrote Dependent Rational Animals  in 1999. In it, he argues for a perspective that sees we humans as always dependent animals. Rational, yes—but that doesn't make us independent rational agents, as if we exist on our own. We can only live a life of thriving when we recognize and come to terms with our dependency.
In the Yijing, Hexagram 30, Li Fire/The Clinging/Radiance is composed of two identical trigrams: Li ... Fire over Fire.  As such it is one of the four primary Hexagrams (Heaven 1, Earth 2, Water 29, Fire 30). The interpretation of the Hexagram suggests that fire influences through its heat and light, but only does so because it clings to that which is its fuel. Fire gives heat and light, but is dependent on wood. Separate the fire from the wood and the fire ceases to be. There is no influence without dependence.
The self-proclaimed, self-made, independent person does not exist!
I got to thinking about what I am dependent upon. In truth, too much to tell! In the words of St. Francis I am dependent especially on "brother sun." But also on "sister moon and the stars" and "brother wind" and "sister water" and "brother fire," perhaps most of all to "sister, our mother earth." I am utterly dependent on the bounty of Earth. Self-made? Hardly! Independent? That's a joke!
I am dependent too on the myriad social interactions that make for human life. Not just on Jane ("I can't live if living is without you," goes the song) but on the complex and intricate web of human doing that paves the roads I drive on, brings food to the store I shop in, makes the clothes I wear, fixes my house and my car when they need fixing, provides the internet connection I will use to upload this blog, and untold other human interactions.
And then there is the birth of a deer in our garden this week. There, for just twenty minutes or so as we watched the miracle of life, I sensed an intimate, organic connection with the little deer and through the deer with all that is, with the ten thousand things.
+Ab. Andy