Thursday, 20 October 2011

Babies are God

Reverence. A miracle. Unconditional love. These are natural reactions that are elicited by people when they make contact with a baby. Cradling a newborn can humble even the must ardent alpha male. But why is this? More worldly people may proclaim that it’s simply a matter of paying homage to the joy of a new entry into the world. It’s fair to say that the miniature display of humanity is a joyous gift complemented with the grace of their charmed aesthetics and playful gurgling. Some purists would suggest that even the baby’s flatulence has a certain charm, and are somehow able to overlook the concoction of scents that would otherwise derail them. I would invite the reader to look past the mesmerizing physicality however. The pragmatist may also proclaim that it’s in the genes, and the bonding is simply hard wired into our genetics and instincts. This perhaps leads us into a more appropriate direction as the relational contact in the adult becomes more ephemeral whilst connecting to the emotionality that the baby elicits. Would it be fair to say that most right-minded adults worship the babies that they enter contact with? If we consider the servile and humbled persona that the adult generally merges into then I think it would. Interestingly adults rarely worship other adults, with the exception of the idols that are carried over from the wistful admiration of adolescence. Anyone for a bit of Justin Bieber? Even then, it’s hardly the pure kind of reverence reserved for babies. Why do our infantile friends monopolise the highest quality emotions?

Okay, perhaps it’s crude to label babies as Gods. But in the conventional sense perhaps its fair to say that babies are as close to God as we can get in the earthly realm. On the circle of life, death and rebirth that many religions point to, it would be fair to say that babies are fresh out of the heavenly oven so to speak. Could we as clumsy earth bound beings, be tickled on a spiritual level by the babies heavenly after glow? If sleep is the small death, and enlightenment the death of ego, who is to say that birth is not a perfectly formed spiritual hangover?

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