Tip-Off #146 - Time out. . . for Arthur
"Do not rush through anything as if understood; instead, follow it down until you see it in the mystery of its own specificity and strength." - Annie Dillard.
Arthur was born sometime in June last year and was lucky to survive, given the tendency of mantis mothers—and their offspring—to eat their own. Nymphs can hunt as soon as they hatch, and all are cannibalistic, sometimes even turning on their siblings. Fortunately, enough of the 200 born are spared, allowing the species to thrive. Arthur had only a short time to live—about 6–8 months, maybe less if he fell prey to a female. Males often lose their heads in the heat of the moment. When coupling, female mantises make sure they do: they sometimes bite off their necks to ensure continued interest, severing a nerve that controls the male's lower nervous system and limits reproductive behavior.
Happily, Arthur was still alive when we met. He was in a flowerpot on the porch, indistinguishable from the leaf he was eating. He gave himself away when he turned his head. His eyes took my breath away. As if making sure he had my attention, he swiveled his head around 180 degrees instantly and looked straight at me again. (Mantises can do that.)
Hoping he wouldn't leave, I quickly checked the internet and discovered Arthur was a middle-aged male who likely hadn't mated yet. His large eyes and swiveling head give him excellent vision for hunting. Praying mantises are surprisingly interactive, especially with humans. So with Arthur. He listened every time I spoke—except when I raised my voice, and he jerked his head away. After a while, he nodded slightly every time he heard me. Then, for a few seconds, he would return to eating his leaf or whatever he was doing. Mantises prefer bees and butterflies.
I was hooked, and our relationship went on for a whole week. Before going to bed and first thing in the morning, I checked to ensure he was still on the porch. Finally, he left the flowerpot and landed on the railing. One afternoon, towards the end of the week, I briefly glanced away, and when I looked again, he was gone.
I often think of Arthur. It is exactly a year now. His photo (above) is in the middle of my desk.
I feel silly for being sentimental about an insect. But no less than Aristotle studied shellfish and all kinds of other creatures. We know him as a philosopher, but he also was an ardent naturalist. He encouraged his students not to turn away from studying animals that aren't glamorous because there was something wonderful in them, not least the sheer fact that they all strive for continued life.
We often assume that being human is uniquely special and significant, leading us to question our own nature rather than consider what it means to be an elephant, a pig, a bird—or a praying mantis. Aristotle noted that animals perceive, desire, and move to fulfill their needs, and he sought a unified explanation for this in all creatures, including humans.
The first question is not "Who am I?" but "Who are you?" Our differences are not divisions but the foundation of our unity. We share this planet with billions of other sentient beings, each with their distinct way of existing. I am unique. So is Arthur. So are you. Tenderness has been called "attentiveness to the mystery of the Other"—a way of approaching another, recognizing their complexity and originality, and watching out for generalities.
All forms of life depend on mutual influence and collaboration, from the molecules in our cells to the individuals in our communities. And so with inanimate life. Plants and trees warn each other of trouble; dusk quiets the birds; insects can be friends. Geneticists say we carry DNA from Neanderthals. Astrophysicists suggest we carry the essence of stars within us.
No words in the English language capture this sense of being connected to things larger than ourselves. In Japanese, one translation of "self"—jibun—can be interpreted as "one's share of the shared life space," reflecting a more interdependent view of the self common in Japanese culture. The South Africans have ubuntu, summarized as “I am because we are.”
We are part of a seamless continuity. We don’t have to go far to be stunned. Our own neural network is beyond belief: A 3D reconstruction of a cubic millimeter of a woman's brain reveals an estimated 150 million synapses.
Mary Oliver wrote,
"The farthest star and the mud at our feet are a family, and there is no decency or sense in honoring one thing, or a few things, and then closing the list. The leaf has a song in it. Stone is the face of patience. The pine tree, the leopard, the Platte River, and ourselves are at risk together, or we are on our way to a sustainable world together. Our dignity and our chances are one. We are each other's destiny."
Arthur would nod. I could quit talking.
Notes and reading
Praying mantises (mantids) are controversial. Farmers appreciate them because they help regulate populations of insects that can harm crops, reducing the need for chemical pesticides. Gardeners say they are “voracious and deadly predators.” - "Should I Release a Praying Mantis into My Garden?" University of New Hampshire Extension, October 2021.
Aristotle - Parts of Animals. Book 1, part 5 (645a.15). Online.
Interdependence in both living and inanimate nature - See "Cosmic ingredients: How the universe forges elements" in Astronomy, updated on May 18, 2023, and "Ancient DNA and Neanderthals" in Smithsonian's Human Origins, February 20, 2024.
Sentience extends beyond humans - discussed by Martha Nussbaum in Justice for Animals: Our Collective Responsibility (2024). - Traditions like Hinduism, Taoism, and animism embrace the idea that all matter has consciousness. The merger of general relativity and quantum physics in science connects the macroscopic and microscopic worlds. While philosophers debate functionalism, panpsychism, and “new materialism,” David Bentley Hart, a scholar of philosophy, religion, and culture, challenges these views by arguing that consciousness transcends both material and functional explanations. (The Experience of God, 2013; All Things Are Full of Gods, 2024, "Day Four," 261-319).
The opposite of violence is not the absence of violence but tenderness: “attentiveness to the mystery of the Other.” Ukrainian theologian Alexander Filonenko quoted in “Dark Theology as an Approach to Reassembling the Church” by Andrey Shishkov, School of Theology and Religious Studies, University of Tartu (Estonia). Online at MDPI (publisher of open-access scientific journals).
"for the Japanese, one translation of 'self'" - Deborah L. Cabaniss, “Masks and the Self: A Reflection on Interconnectedness,” Psychology Today, December 2020. - Desmond Tutu discusses Ubuntu in the context of post-apartheid South Africa and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission—No Future Without Forgiveness (1999).
“150 million synapses…” - 57,000 cells - revealed in a cubic millimeter of the brain. Explanation with a large color photograph. "Piece of Mind," in Wired, September/ October 2024.
Mary Oliver - Upstream: Selected Essays (2016).
Cosmic Connections: Poetry in the Age of Disenchantment - Charles Taylor (2024). The perennial longing for cosmic connections. Objections to the belief in cosmic order, yet “the felt sense of a reality higher and deeper than the everyday world.”
About 2 + 2 = 5: https://williamgreen.substack.com/about - revised
So much richness here to consider. I love the interpretation of "jibun" and the summary of "ubuntu." I love Oliver's conclusion: "We are each other's destiny." I'll "yes, and" with Buber: “I require a You to become; becoming I, I say You. All actual life is encounter.” I love Arthur's photo, too.