Of Ravens and Men

I stumbled upon a curiosity. Raven smarts. When papa raven is disappointed to discover there is no food in the squirrel feeder, mama raven gets the message from afar, turns her tail feathers, and gives him the cold shoulder. People who know raven speak call this emotional contagion. In other words, if one partner is grumpy, the other catches her vibe.

Sounds a bit random. But not so much. Last week I rush into the kitchen, shoes off, groceries down, it's quiet but for a kids movie in the other room, I head straight to the dirty sink, my back to the world.

Why is it me who is always doing the dishes? And why can’t the sink be cleaned out on the rare occasion when someone else does them? And how come I’m the one who needs to let the cat out at 5 AM? And decide about dinner?

All fair questions.

In walks a fearless warrior incarnated in my daughter. “We were in a great mood until now dad, just got done with homework. We planned to clean up after relaxing with the movie.”

“Sure!“

“And dad, another thing, you are bringing us all down!”

Chutspah in the very best sense. A warrior being real. She gets it. My umpteenth reminder that my emotional being is not an island. We do this life together. Joy is not complete when in isolation. Grief is not resolved by being alone. It is always us. The We. You and me and them too. I walk weary into the room and regulate the emotions of my family with drudgery and resignation. And they push back and regulate me with acceptance and love. Cause they are so darn smart.

Wouldn't my workplace be a trip if our safety gear read 'Protect Good Vibes,' or 'Happy Chappy', or ‘Awesomely Connected to You’? OK, I am cawing it in.

The ravens. Apparently, they only communicate pessimism. When mama raven is excited about a tasty cat food snack, papa doesn’t get excited until he too has the experience.

We may not have evolved to fly but I figure positive emotional regulation is worth the trade.