The Rhino version of this nursery jingle varies from the original, because Rhinos are phobic about Fire, with every good reason.
From the get-go, RhinoTots are drilled about Fire and its ruthless ways.
On this topic, Rhinos allow neither Nonsense nor Flippancy.
Rhinos have always enjoyed the Hurdy Gurdy, an instrument of Yore. You crank on one end and twinkle the keys on the other end, and out comes Music worth skipping to.
It has things in common with an accordion, if you think about it. Well, everything today has Ancestors one way and another. Hurdy Gurdies no less than the Rhinoceros.
By Nature, Rhinos are a placid species, going about our business, causing little ruckus. But We do React Big Time when We encounter Special Vegetation. Something goes off Inside, and We flip our lids.
It’s not altogether an orderly response, but it is not altogether Unpleasant.
Rhinos seem to have a Whacko Gene that leaves Us prey to investments in Foolishness.
Sorry about that, more or less, but it is a fine antidote to Dignity.
Bedtime is full of adventures, mostly related to where a Rhino ends up in Dreamland. There is no dependable way to decide which Level of Consciousness We will access. We flip the Slumber Switch, and away We go.
Sometimes that night’s Level feels familiar, sometimes playmates there feel familiar, all very stimulating and at the same time reassuring. Or very peculiar, depending.
How does Nature do it?
Rhinos seldom combine Color and Black&White is our dreams. We mostly prefer one or the other. We don’t get tense about it; often We don’t remember which way a dream went.
Also, since Rhinos often forget our dreams… well, if We can’t recall the dream, what color was it? Duh. Who knows? We are more likely to remember what a dream smelled like.
We Rhinos do a lot of checking out. We’re here, and then We are Elsewhere, and then We are back. Dreamland is always on tap, part of our mental Real Estate.
Well, it will be back tomorrow, right?
A little patience here…
In the Wild, few species reach old age. One way and another, Rhinos run out of steam or die in the process of Living. We don’t see this as tragic; for most of Us it is inevitable.
For the oldest of Us, what comes of so much Expereince is a sense of calm. We fret less about our Ignorance and embrace it, or accept it as Natural. We can’t know it all. We can’t even Want to know it all.
We accept our days for what they offer, and let it go at that. Maybe that is what Wisdom offers.
Rhinos wonder just how Time works. We were all little once, and weathered the puzzlements of growing up. And then, We got bigger and had to make our own rules for what is what, knowing half the time we might be all wet. And then We have kids of our own, and then We are Mature, dishing out wisdom as if We know what We’re talking about.
But the older We get, the more We realize that all those younger versions of ourselves are still active, still doubting and assessing. Makes Us wonder if We’ll ever believe our own version.
Confusing.
Mothering is one of those Skills for which there is inadequate preparation. There are classes, and much lore, and advice, but ultimately it comes down to an ability to Nurture. Each Mother does the best possible, but that does not guarantee much. ‘Possible’ leaves lots of room for interpretation.
What is pretty clear is how Nature provides internal systems which work most of the time for both the Mother and the Nurtured. It’s a peculiar collaboration, Growing Up. A hunt-and-peck effort for all concerned.
Rhinos are good at Nurturing, but no better than most other Critters. It’s a project where Good Intentions win the day.
