Tabula rasa

This morning when I came home from teaching Kindermusik, some wonderful things had happened.  The boys had cleaned their rooms; the den was straight.  The laundry had been taken downstairs to the laundry room.  This afternoon when I came home from teaching Kindermusik, even more wonderful, the kitchen was spotless.  The den floor swept clean.  Loads of laundry had been washed and dried.  As I had some time to prepare for voice class and had resigned that the majority of that time would be spent taking care of the boys, the most wonderful thing of all happened.  My husband took the boys to the park with snacks, so I have TWO hours to myself.  That gives me lots of time to think about "One day. . ." topics.

When I saw the den floor and the kitchen table, my first thought was, "Ah, a clean slate!"  That led me to Locke's phrase, Tabula rasa, an epistemological theory that began long before him.  The kitchen floor can be swept clean and the counters wiped til gleaming, but there is no such thing as a Tabula rasa for us.  In relationships, harsh words can sting and leave marks--whoever said, "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me" was ALL wrong.  These hurts can be mended and forgiven, but the slate is no longer clean.  The phrase is more accurately translated as "erased slate."  And in Roman times, notes were inscribed on wax tablets and to clear the notepad, the tablet was heated until the wax melted.  Voila!  All clean!

When D has seizures, his eyes get a blank stare.  The seizures never last long and are super hard to spot, but after seeing them often enough, you learn to recognize what is happening.   Talking with people sometimes D also gets a blank stare.   It's like his mind is working to place a person's face or voice or to respond appropriately to the social niceties being extended.  Most people think this blankness means there is no one home.  Old acquaintances are disappointed because they think he doesn't remember them or can't place them.  But that is not true.  He remembers EVERYTHING that has to do with people who elicit strong emotion:  sadness, happiness, fear, excitement.  One time a person at a fast food establishment let him talk into the ordering microphone.  He LOVED hearing his voice and to this day, he will try to talk into the microphone usually when we leave because I am caught off guard trying to clear the table or get everyone to the rest room.  He knows who you are, where he met you, what you did, all of it.  But processing this information takes time.  He has a major processing delay.  So often, once we are out the door, he responds to the person whose house we just left.  Tabula rasa does not fit D-man.  He will make connections between people and objects or places that linger much longer than my recollection of the moment does.

But I guess there is at least one sense in which people emerge wiped clean.  For Christians, Jesus Christ's death on the cross washes the slate clean.  We are no longer condemened:  Romans 8:1 "There is therefore now NO condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."  His perfect life and sacrificial death atoned for my sins, my wrongdoings.  Christ has given me a Tabula rasa before Him. Praise God, my sin will be credited to me no more; instead I'll have the righteousness of Christ!

Still, with others, the slate is more like the palimpsest where traces of the words that have been scratched off remain:  the consequences of my sin remain, the hurt I cause lingers, the biting words reverberate.  In relationships with other people, I must learn to write carefully.  Pain, once written, is hard to erase.  Sometimes, like the wax tablets of ancient Rome, it takes fire to clear the air.