I believe all infants are born with expansive mental concepts and huge capabilities that they proceed to lose as they become accustomed/inured to living in the world.
I remember “knowing” things as a toddler, that I’ve now forgotten. I even distinctly recall standing in our kitchen when I was around 2 and half (date firm because the kitchen was reconfigured when I was 3) experiencing an existential epiphany of grave consequence. I made of point of thinking “THIS is important! It solves everything! The grown-ups clearly have forgotten this!” I concentrated on remembering it, and told myself, “I won’t forget, and when I’m a grown-up I can remind everyone.” Of course I remember making the vow, but not what I was meant to remember, eyeroll. My apologies to a still unhappy planet. Chuckle.
A few months later, still in preschool, before I could read, my mom was holding her hand on the tap waiting for the water to get cold. I launched into a fugue-like lecture about thermal expansion and contraction in response to molecular excitement, and differential property densities. Observing that she was “wasting water because, if she held her hand under the tap in the stream, she could tell sooner when the water was cold, because water was less dense than the metal tap, so it took longer and more water to pass through for the cold water to transfer enough thermal energy to make the metal contract enough to feel cold.” She got a weird look on her face and demanded “how do you know that?” I self-consciously shrugged, not understanding why I wouldn’t know it, and more confused why she didn’t. Later, I overheard her telling my dad how scary it was to hear me talking that way. After this, I carefully avoided discussing any thoughts about quantum theory with her.
I believe all infants are born with expansive mental concepts and huge capabilities that they proceed to lose as they become accustomed/inured to living in the world.
I remember “knowing” things as a toddler, that I’ve now forgotten. I even distinctly recall standing in our kitchen when I was around 2 and half (date firm because the kitchen was reconfigured when I was 3) experiencing an existential epiphany of grave consequence. I made of point of thinking “THIS is important! It solves everything! The grown-ups clearly have forgotten this!” I concentrated on remembering it, and told myself, “I won’t forget, and when I’m a grown-up I can remind everyone.” Of course I remember making the vow, but not what I was meant to remember, eyeroll. My apologies to a still unhappy planet. Chuckle.
A few months later, still in preschool, before I could read, my mom was holding her hand on the tap waiting for the water to get cold. I launched into a fugue-like lecture about thermal expansion and contraction in response to molecular excitement, and differential property densities. Observing that she was “wasting water because, if she held her hand under the tap in the stream, she could tell sooner when the water was cold, because water was less dense than the metal tap, so it took longer and more water to pass through for the cold water to transfer enough thermal energy to make the metal contract enough to feel cold.” She got a weird look on her face and demanded “how do you know that?” I self-consciously shrugged, not understanding why I wouldn’t know it, and more confused why she didn’t. Later, I overheard her telling my dad how scary it was to hear me talking that way. After this, I carefully avoided discussing any thoughts about quantum theory with her.