All that exists within

A couple of weeks ago, I looked at my three-year-old and thought, “If he’s made up of trillions of cells that aren’t ‘his,’ what does it mean to love ‘him’?”

As I almost always do when facing a question I can’t fathom answering, I sat down to read. I quickly found Michael Pollan’s “Some of My Best Friends are Germs” in New York Times Magazine. It began, “I can tell you the exact date that I began to think of myself in the first-person plural — as a superorganism, that is, rather than a plain old individual human being.”*

I didn’t finish the article; I’m more of a book-reader. Beside that, I’d found enough to hold me over: Pollan had shown me that others outside “me” were doing the work of updating their mental models of the world … and themselves. Continue reading “All that exists within”