tonight, i yelled at my son because his report card was not good. i hated the way it made me feel. later on, when i went to call him down for dinner, i found him in his room, and in his closet, in the dark, crying. i tried to talk to him and tell him that although i was disappointed, i still loved him, and that it was not the end of the world. i tried to tell him that no matter what happens, we pick ourselves up and try again... you know, all those sorts of platitudes.
i guess as a father, i'm sort of a disappointment (in myself? in him?). i never really worked my son. i never pushed him. i guess there was a moment in the past that sort of shocked me out of doing anything like that. when my son was in kindergarten, and he had the WORST teacher ever (i don't care how much people like her, or shower her with accolades and praise- to my son, and to me, she was the WORST teacher), well, i realized i kind of lost my temper when he couldn't tell me what a rectangle was- this after all that time in preschool and all that time working with him. and then when the counselor talked to me about the ialac (it's an acronym for "i am lovable and capable"), and how my son's ialac had been hurt- well, it broke my heart. and i promised myself that i wouldn't get that angry with him again.
it's been difficult. i sometimes think that my son needs someone to push him, to structure his life... but at this point, i kind of feel it's too late. he has formed his life. he makes his own decisions. i can make recommendations, but ultimately it is his choice to take them. i don't know if i'm just being lazy or what, but i neither think that i should get so up in his business that it is no longer his business, nor should i communicate anything that damages his ego. yes, i know, there's all this talk nowadays about how this generation of parents is coddling their kids- but whatever.
i love my son, and i suppose there is a feeling of hesitation whenever i see him hurt. like, maybe i had planted that in him. and i don't want him to ever feel that, that self-hatred. i mean, i wrestle with that to this day. it haunts me still. i don't want him to feel like that. i want him to feel safe in his own skin.
***
i managed to plant the plants in the planter box. i guess i mentioned that yesterday, but i suppose i'm still riding on that. i made a decision to do hydroponics outside, using the old round buckets (that we used to use for practice drums for taiko). there are a couple of problems: 1) i don't have a lot of the supplies, like pH monitors and such, nor do i have the nutrient solution; and 2) i don't have the plants ready for the hydroponics yet. i guess there's a third factor, and that is that i don't really know all the intricacies of hydroponics yet. in a sense, aquaponics is easier in that it really does mimic a natural cycle. and hopefully, in aquaponics, if everything is going right, then you don't have to mess with it much... but i'll gradually try to figure it out.
***
a couple of insights:
1) i sometimes live my life with this sort of gentle pressure. i mean, i have a sense of the goals i want to achieve, but i've learned not to push too hard for any one thing. i guess, in my experience, there is this inevitable push back and accompanying guilt if i try too hard and focus too much on any one thing. life is round, after all. and even with me gently addressing each thing, i neglect so much! but in any case, i had this vision of coal turning into a diamond... or that line from shawshank redemption, something about how all that is needed to change things is pressure and time. yes, with a lot of my goals, i kind of skitter around, seemingly not doing anything much for them, but just sort of touching this or touching that. at times, i surprise myself with the impetus or force with which i do things. but usually, i just walk around the idea of doing something...
why is there this push back? is that what holds me back from being more forceful? am i afraid of making mistakes?
2) i can't really recall the second insight now. but... i guess there is still attachment to the "sumptuousness" of life, of youth. i said before, there is fear of decrepitude, of old age, because from my perspective it just seems like this degeneration, this loss, this emptiness. but maybe it's because i have a mistaken notion of emptiness. i know that when shodo was trying to teach me about the concept of emptiness in buddhism, that that was one of the greatest errors: to think of emptiness in a limited sense, like some sort of void or something. the character for emptiness is the same as that for the sky- which can help you get a sense of what emptiness is really all about- some vast openness that allows for all possibilities. i wish i could glimpse that sky someday. i never managed to realize enlightenment under shodo, and as time passes, i think it is less and less likely that i ever will. i no longer have the discipline to do something like that. life impinges on me all the time, and i am comfortable in my decadence... i don't know.
sometimes i wonder why i do or why i did everything that i do/did. i still hold in my mind this image of some feminine figure, like some sort of angel or something, that looks down upon me and approves of my actions. it's an endearing image. or rather, an enduring image. i'm married and all, but it still stays with me. i'm doing something for approval, and for release. i don't know how else to explain it. i guess that's why i write, as well. to reach some audience, to move them. but it's kind of complicated nowadays, because i question whether the audience even exists. i mean, art is not solipsistic, or it shouldn't be, but it also isn't just a capitulation to the needs and desires of the other. i like to think that it is a flowing out of the author- his or her perspective...
anyway... i don't know what else to really write about.
i wish life made more sense. i wish i were consistent with my thoughts, my feelings. but i guess that's life.
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