Only humans beget humans. The glory road leads from the mother registering precisely an emotional state communicated by her infant and getting the child to register the fact she gets it. Mama talks.
By this creative action she transforms a biologic product into a person. Only a mother begets mind. And mind is linked with language, which makes thoughts thinkable.
Mind is a place that gets turned on and off like a light bulb. Mind is the light and not the bulb, a kind of energy, not a thing. The Good Object, as described by Melanie, has a similar structure.
Mind is non-Euclidean, without dimension.
Mind is the active part of us. Curiosity drives it. Unlike emotions, which we experience passively, mind thinks, it wills, it judges. Mind is pure activity, the author of its own existence. When not lit, mind disappears.
Mind exists in the singular. Like heart muscle, mind is a vast syncytium. Every mind is interconnected with every other mind, each a living Google, pumping out mindfulness.
Mind focuses on reality. It separates fact from fiction. Its mantra,
“Wishing won’t make it so.”
Mind is a disturber of the peace, a power “infinite in faculty.”
So thoroughly has mind thrust itself into the world, we interact more with products of mind than nature.
Like mind, the Good Object exists in the singular. Unlike mind, it is not a syncytium. Beginning with our mother and continuing throughout our life, we create a personalized Good Object. It is strictly a custom job.
Anna and Maria, observed by Spitz, were dying without The Good Object realized in the person of their mothers.
Blondie’s Good Object, helpless under the batterings of an untethered Moral Sense, condemned the family to perpetual nightmare.
Our breast-feeding mother could not nurse her infant when hate sullied her Good Object.
Art Buchwald and my Charity hospital patient, brain illness blasting their Good Object to Kingdom Come, got cast into hell.
I experienced first-hand the terror of losing The Good Object when my hospital nursing staff came after me, lashed into a mob of avenging maniacs by The Moral Sense.
Both mind and The Good Object exist only in the singular, but a fateful asymmetry divides them.
The Good Object is about meaning.
The mind is about knowledge.
The Good Object has no prescriptive authority. It can tell no one else how to run her life.
The mind has no prescriptive authority, either. It only describes. The Is does not have the authority of Ought.
The Good Object lives in earthquake county. It is vulnerable to a thousand shocks.
Like a tornado touching down on earth, mind unleashes devastating energy. The race is naked to its fury. Mind changed unnumbered tribes of harmless hominids, safely tucked in hidden valleys across the globe, into a terrifying threat to the planet.
Is there any way to bridge the unbridgeable gulf between knowledge and meaning?