Gods in Biosemiosis

Given that relating to a living system is akin to relating to a person, it makes sense that human societies create gods and have personal relations with them. It’s the only way that we can represent to ourselves that relationship with anything close to a sufficient degree of accuracy.

The gods as real.

Many times I have heard it stated that the gods are real. But never what it is that real means.

Generally when we claim something is real we are claiming that it is a correct or authentic instance of some category or class.

The velveteen rabbit was “real”. In his case it indicated that he was not a toy any more, but was a living being, despite his appearance as a toy. But any reader of the book knows that he was still a toy. What was real, in the sense of animating the child’s relationsip with him, was the child’s love for the toy. So in this example, which is perhaps the best known explicit claim of reality for something that was never born or … , there are two things being real might refer to. One is being a (real) living being despite the appearance of being a human construct, and the other is being loved, which is to say being an emotionally significant other to a human.

I guess either of these definitions could apply to a god. Those who talk about the reality of gods generally claim that‘s not what they mean, that the god has some kind of a priori reality. But in this case we ask again, a real instance of what? A body? A living system? An aspect of the laws of life?

Thank Goodness

    A friend who professes to atheism uses the phrase "thank physics", as, I suppose, a parallel construction to an offensive 'thank god".
    The impulse to thank persists, even without positing a personalized recipient of the thanks. Surely, the health benefits of thankfulness have been amply demonstrated. Gratitude not only arises, we cultivate it for our own benefit and well-being. I conjecture that it is largely this impulse to give thanks that gives rise to a belief in deities. We are simply unaccustomed to non-dualism, to gratitude having no personal object.
    And yet "thank physics" rings false to my ear. Physics reified as a recipient of thanks? Ouch. I stick to an older formulation.
    Thank goodness.
    After all, what is goodness? It is a marker of appropriate reciprocity. It shows that we belong here in our world, in our life, that we are part of this fullness containing that which we find good.
    Goodness inheres in the interplay between what we are and what the world is from which we arise. It shows up in contact between organisms, between an organism and an ecosystem, an organism and a product or creation or aspect of another organism or ecosystem.
    Our perceptual systems are necessary for us to know goodness, but they are not sufficient. The sense of taste detects goodness in the apple, in the sashimi, in the chocolate custard. Are they there? No, they're in the encounter. There's no goodness in an apple for a housecat, nor in sashimi for a giraffe.
    The things and individuals, creations and complex systems we encounter are necessary for us to know goodness, but they are not sufficient. A warm bed provides no goodness when we are ready to go play. Nor a lovely sunset when we are in a dark room. There can be great goodness in music if it is neither so loud as to be painful no so soft as to be inaudible. There can likewise be great irritation or plain old boredom. Our senses need to encounter and be ready for these things in order for goodness to happen. The tree that falls unheard in the forest may exist, but whether it has goodness depends on whether your nest full of eggs was at its top or you were waiting for a sunny patch on the ground to open up so that you can sprout and grow.
     At root, goodness occurs in biological systems encountering and recognizing what they need. Goodness is a result of coevolution, of survival of the fittest. Not the fittest in the sense of having big muscles and not smoking. The fittest in the sense that my environment fits me like a glove. I can eat and breathe and shelter myself with what it provides, It can incorporate my CO2 and my dung and the erosion my footfalls create back into its dynamic equilibrium so that we sustain each other. That's fitness.
    Goodness is the experience of recognizing fitness. It is the communication of that perceptive recognition to the ongoing narrative that is our sense of self. Our senses respond to our encounters, and our mind constructs a world containing goodness.
    So goodness is the gauge of our congruence with what we encounter; of whether it is appropriate and nourishing for us as organisms. Goodness marks the reciprocity of biology, the life we are part of, which cannot occur without give and take, perceive and respond. Thank biology.
    Thank goodness.

Montana

I've reached my b&b, and am sitting in the shade looking at the mountains, and the combine harvesting the wheat in the foreground.
I'm often anxious and feel like I'm in a hurry when I'm traveling. I flew to Spokane last night, and went to my hotel which I had reserved ahead because I was worried about deciding on one while on the road. When I got there I wished I had gone a little further from the airport, just to have a slightly shorter trip today. Never mind. It was easy to find - I was worried about navigating an unfamiliar city in the dark - and adequately comfortable.
In the  morning I can see that I am adjacent to the river. Nice little walk to loosen my back before I drive. Clear green water, little fish, cottonwoods and elders. It's so far North that the St. John's Wort is blooming in mid August.
Got rolling, drove contentedly for a couple of hours, until I passed a sign that said Glacier. Maybe I ought to turn back and take that turn. After a while I find a place to stop and look at my map. I had diverged from the route I meant to take about an hour and a half ago. OK, new plan.
Driving here is somewhat novel. The speed limit is 75, but posted 50 on curves, and it's all curves. I'm not the only one who can't keep up with the limit; the traffic tends to be slower than the posted speed even going straight without congestion.
After a while I reach the turnoff for Hot Springs, Montana. Hotel and mineral baths, two miles. May as well check it out now, I'll probably never be here again.
Two hot pools and the cold pool is closed for cleaning. Private bathtubs too. Seven bucks for both, how can I pass that up? Nice slippery mineral water, just what I hoped. No shade at all, so I can't stay in the water long. Such a shock to step into the water. I know it's hot, but still my skin expects it to be cold.
Onward to my B&B. I've talked to the hostess twice on the phone, and both times I ended up confused. Good thing I've downloaded directions.
The hostess is a crude spoken, earthy gal who expects people to fed for themselves and yet obey what she tells them. The room is listed as non-smoking, but in the yard everybody's puffing. She has three sons and is accustomed to a lively house. The place seems to be full of several young men, music, dog, commotion. Hard to find a place to write and watch the clouds, but it quiets down.