Have a blessed day, my beloved Family!
Much love to everyone.
So I've been thinking a lot about maturity
(don't laugh!) and the whole developmental
process lately...prior to the ridiculous
'designated days' for mothers and fathers to
receive special attentions, actually.
I wonder what sort of preparation are we
supposed to be getting for becoming adults?
What qualifies any of us to start playing dress
up and conducting ourselves as authorities?
I know I'm in a constant state of trying to keep
my fool head above water....
piecing it together blindly as I go! 41 years old?
How'd that happen? Where's all the wisdom
and security and understanding I assumed
came automatically with age?
It seems that the more I know, the less
I truly understand.
Police, teachers, cashiers, the idle rich;
we're all just playing roles in the Big High
School of life. We're cemented into social
positions we have chosen (or that were
chosen for us.) There are certain allowances,
certain restrictions. Mostly we all respect
the boundaries...and there are consequences
when we don't.
But what is the difference between someone
ill-suited for a customer service job and someone
who works at one? An ugly smock and a name tag?
What prevents a mediocre doctor from operating
in the same hospital as a brilliant one? The right
last name? Most stuff is random. There is no set
pattern to "how things end up."
"It could all be otherwise," as a fave philosopher
was wont to say.
For those who become parents, it seems mostly
to be an "Uh-OH!" kind of enrollment. I have
not heard many people say "Man, we were
hoping she would get pregnant." Most
pregnancies--and to be fair, by extension,
most marriages--are the result of unplanned
So I'm seeing the idea of a parent not being
some person on a pedestal who is owing
answers and standards and perfection to
anyone. They're just poor schmucks
who are responding to what's been put in
front of them...struggling to get by the best
they know how....hoping that they can find
a balance between 'doing the right thing' and
not selling out self. Blindly feeling their
way through it.
Just like the rest of us.
Wondering..."How did this become my life?"
perhaps. Life rarely ends up being what we
expect or plan for. A 'concept' as to what a
parent is 'supposed to be/do/think/say"
etc is not a contract. Each person carries
with them their own vastly different set
of needs and wants. It would be impossible
for the people who end up in the same
household to get those wants and needs
aligned to everyone's satisfaction.
I don't want to fight. I don't want to
blame anymore. I want to hold a peaceful
thought for others and what I perceive
to be their 'shortcomings' as I want for others
to forgive my 'idiosyncrasies.' Funny how
that balances out.
A father is just a man. Just another person
on the planet. Flawed, blessed, crushed,
potent. Different labels on different days.
When do we decide to just let people be
who they are, and love them regardless?
When do we learn to love ourselves enough
to not be identified through a relationship to another?