it is a hard thing to be five years old.

it is particularly hard when you have a father who is ostensibly loving, but who shows his love through an unpredictable alternation of doting and cruelty...

***

i love my son deeply. but the love of a father for a son is, by necessity, complex. it is important for a boy, even a very young boy, to learn how to be independent and tough. i say this not only because there are benefits in and of themselves to these qualities, but more because it is the social expectation that boys should be independent and tough early on. if they are not, then they face a very difficult road ahead.

i should know, because i was not particularly tough, and i earned the disgust of many, and multiplied it in my own self-perceptions as if to show the world that i could hate myself far better and with more vicious subtlety than anyone else could. it is the demon that i created, as an abreaction (or perhaps my one act of competitiveness?) to the repugnance people felt in my presence as a child. and it is this demon that i hope my own son will avoid.

i tell and show my son that i love him, and am very proud of him. i am, truly. he is by nature very kind and gentle. he never treats people unfairly, or looks down upon anyone. he never intentionally hurts anyone. many of his peers have already "developed" to the point where they make distinctions and judgments about people, and choose those who are "worthy of attention" and consciously ignore or insult those who are not. i am proud that my son remains "naive" and undeveloped in this regard. if it is a sign of immaturity that he remains this way, then so be it.

even at five years old, many children will refuse to listen to a boy who is not as articulate as they are. even at five years old, many children will "know" who stands out, and laugh. this is perfectly understandable, as their adult models do it all the time, and probably even urge their children to be this way. competition is inbred, and in the blood from a very early age. we all want the best for our kids, don't we?

sometimes i think that you have to be born with a gentle soul to appreciate and remain gentle, despite all the conditioning of our modern-day competitive environment. sometimes i think that you have to already know, deep down in your bones, that the competitive way of the world is not the true or only way of the world, that it is possible (and wonderful) to find friends anywhere and everywhere, and not just in some vaunted "in crowd." sometimes i think that you have to already be born with a heart that knows this freedom and simplicity, to walk the world without carrying so many judgments.

i think i knew this once as strongly as my son (fragile though he is) knows it. i think i, at one point, truly believed it, and held it as the only truth of the world. i think it is this that allows me to relate to children and animals so easily (they are far less judgmental about the universe). but i also think that time and experience have conditioned me, and made me, at the same time, bitter and cynical about the meanness of people. this, even after i've come to realize that "mean people" are hardly to blame, that there are compulsions and "necessities" to be that way...

i want to find a way for my son to retain this gentle heart, even as the world ignores or insults him. i want to teach him how to be "tough," so that the world does not hurt him. i want him to respect himself, to see his gentleness as a special strength, and not as a weakness or liability (as the world would have him think). but it is a hard thing to do...

***

well, enough negative ruminations... last night, we performed in ryusei taiko's biannual recital. it was an awesome experience. willow and aiden did a great job. i had to tell myself (and them) that they managed to perform on a stage under bright lights before 500 or so people at five and seven years old. me at that age? i could never have done what they'd done, and with such composure. very very proud.

i got to play in "kaizen" and "iwai." with regards to "iwai," i think i did well. however, there is a tendency for me to "space out" when i am confronting the fear and nervousness (the "reality") of performing before a live audience. it just feels like a part of myself tunes out, kinda like a lesser form of an out-of-body experience. perhaps it is a defense mechanism to prevent myself from getting overwhelmed with nervousness; problem is that it also makes me prone to losing focus and "spirit." i did manage to kinda get back into gear, cheering on my classmates, and pushing all i had into my solo (which i did well on, even if i didn't stick my landing).

taiko is so-o-o great. i'm so happy my kids have had the rare opportunity to join a taiko group at so young an age. it's all about spirit and expression, as well as keeping in time with your group (teamwork, camaraderie, or something in between); things that i wish i had experienced when i was young...

***

well, it's getting late. i've got treatments and a class to teach tomorrow. tonight i will sit with my son as he sleeps, watching over him, and cradling his head, to feel the unwinding of his sphenoid as he dreams deep and fathomless dreams... and perhaps my hands will keep all of his dreams from turning sour and sad. i would keep all of his tears and all of his demons for myself...