I think of nature as whatever lives and happens in the absence of human agency. Culture at root refers to husbandry, the care of living, growing things. Somehow, the moment we cultivate them, things cease to be natural. People, the most artificial, the most cultivated, of beings, can go native, but this consists of no more than doing in Rome whatever Romans do. Unable to decide what to do, we are encouraged to do what comes naturally, meaning what occurs to us unbidden and without calculation. We answer nature’s call, on the other hand, with manufactured paper, molded porcelain and plumbed water. Where I come from, bidets are expensive and optional.
Not only does nature host our several growths, but each growth is said to have a nature. Yet not a single one of us can begin to describe what we were born to be, unless it were a howling, helpless infant. Paradoxically, human nature involves an element of indeterminacy. Adequately cultured, we might fulfill our better natures by actively and consciously shaping what we are, husbanding ourselves into what we want to be. People who manage this feat easily however, without paroxysm or paralysis, are said to be naturals. Maybe they're not people at all.
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