Day 277

The woodsman and his apprentice.

I ran 1.42 miles (2.28 km) although I have no idea how long I took because I wore no watch and couldn't find my phone.  It was all miserable and rainy and I am not looking forward to camping in the rain with my grade 6 class later on this week!

My mother's lucky number was 7, and there are two of them in this day's number, so it reminded me of her.  And of course it is one of my lucky numbers too.

Weird how superstitions are handed down, like throwing a pinch of salt over your left shoulder into the devil's eyes, even though long ago you gave up any idea of the existence of the devil or god.  But you observed your mother doing it almost every day in the kitchen, and so she bequeathed this little habit to you, and it makes you feel good.  And now some of your own children do it as well.

Or like "Bless you!" when you sneeze.  It feels as though you will not be blessed if no one says it, and it is so widespread that complete strangers will bless you if you sneeze in their vicinity, like in a store or on a train. It is as automatic as saying "please" and "thank you".

There is a theory that religion is a bi-product of human evolution.  It was most likely created by people as a means to deal with the tragedies of life and death, and as a way of keeping the peace.  Before there were rules and governments and police forces etc. it would have been difficult for one person to say to another "You have done wrong!  You can't do that!"  You have to do it this way!" because "Who are you to tell me what to do?"  But if everyone believed in a god or gods who told people how to behave in order to get to heaven or karma or whatever, it made societal life much easier.  The human mind was the result of a sudden expansion of cognitive abilities about fifty thousand years ago.  Religion is the price we pay for being different from all the other animals.

Tonight I worked at the Topsfield Fair in the Bee Building.  It is the oldest Fair in the country, and Chubby Checker celebrated his 69th birthday there today, apparently.  There are three things you do as a volunteer, work in the store selling honey and other bee products, stand at one of the observation hives and tell people all about bees, showing them the queen etc., or rolling candles with mostly kids who pay you their dollar and walk away with smiling faces admiring their handiwork.  Guess which one I love doing most?

It is so interesting to see how some children are so confident and do things so easily, following your instructions with natural dexterity, while others sidle up to the chair shyly and everything is a struggle, choosing the two colours they are allowed, deciding whether they want to make a long skinny one or a short stubby one, then taking over from your hands once you have started  by inserting the wick, even deciding whether they want a packet in which to place their candle once it is done!  And some parents are shy and offish, while others are right in there with their children encouraging them.  Some of them have these tiny little hands, others have big fat awkward fingers.  They all, without exception, love to create a beautiful little two-coloured candle out of two sheets of wax and a bit of string.  And I love watching them and helping them do it.

So this is my little short stubby one I made from damaged wax sheets.

There is something magical and mystical about a candle, appealing to our spiritual side.  When Tim was detained the little girls and I lit a candle every night for him, and while it burned we talked about him and thought about him and drew pictures for him.  They loved that every day we did that very positive thing in a seemingly hopeless time.

My sister lights candles for people too.  I think it was her I was emulating when I began the practice.