tonight, i was reminded of how kind people can be. while i was driving home from a party with my son in the backseat, i ran out of gas on a main stretch of road. i had been riding on fumes, it turns out, unaware of how close i was pushing the envelope. i only had enough to drive on the side of the road near a turn, a very dangerous place. i turned on my hazards, and debated for a time how i was going to address the situation.
i had run out of gas before in more precarious situations. once (not very far from where i ran out of gas tonight) i pushed my then mazda glc over a couple of hills (kinda like sisyphus, urging the boulder over the hill and then slipping into the driver's seat to control the acceleration on the downslope), all the way to the nearest gas station. but tonight, i couldn't do it. different car, and my son was in the backseat, and there were too many cars zipping by to my immediate right.
i had just decided that my best option was to walk with my son over to the gas station (it was really really close - tantalizingly close in an empty gas car), buy a gas can, fill it up, and walk back to the car. just as i was exiting the car, another car stopped behind mines, with its hazards on. this big guy walked out of the car, and asked if i needed help. i briefly explained my situation.
"get in," he said, "i'll push you. this place is way too dangerous."
i was about to object, but he put his hands on the rear bumper. so i got in, and as he pushed, i steered. soon, we were just pass the turn where i ran out of gas, in a much safer location. i got out and shouted my thanks profusely. i shook his hand. he smiled, got back in, and was off... that was kind stranger #1.
so i walked over with my son to the nearby gas station. i asked to buy a gas can, but the two cashiers said that they didn't have any. i was kind of stumped in disbelief. there was a whole shelf full of automotive stuff, from antifreeze to brake fluid. and this was a GAS station. and they didn't have a gas can!? just to get my hopes up, one of the cashiers recalled that they had an emergency gas can in back, but warned me that they would need collateral, $10 up front. luckily, i had the cash. but unluckily, as it turned out, they couldn't find the gas can. desperate, i saw one of those huge 44 oz plastic mugs with the gas station's logo printed on the front. i also spied a large funnel. i decided to purchase these items in a desperate try to get enough fumes of gas into the tank to carry the car the last few yards over to the gas station, where i could fill in the tank properly.
make a long story short... it didn't work. the funnel, long though its shaft was, wasn't curved properly. while there is a small drainhole to catch gasoline to take it to the tank, i think that most of the gasoline from the cup was spilling out rather than going to the tank. i think i still might have had enough to start the engine, but when i tried, i think i must have flooded it, and caused the engine to sputter...
i was at a loss. i thought about walking further to a foodland, to perhaps see if they had a gas can there. it was just then that another car stopped behind mine.
this guy and a girl were in the car. the girl was in the car. the guy came out (looked like a typical local guy, just like the other dude), and said, "need help?"
before i even explained my situation, he said, "need a gas can?" and as though he had been watching my plight, he went to his backseat, where, voila, there was an old gas can. i accepted it, and told him i would hurry back with it after i was done.
"keep it," he said, his girlfriend laughing in the driver's seat. "i have more."
i was speechless. for the second time tonight, i found myself shouting "thank you" over and over again. the smile on that guy's face was priceless. he drove away, his hand raised high, as if to say, "take care."
so, with the gas can, my son and i were able to fill up the tank to a quarter full, and drive home...
***
let it never be said that people around here only look out for themselves. these people actively sought to help me, a perfect stranger, and they did so quickly and with utter generosity. i will never look at other people the same way. within the faces of strangers, there is the possibility of such kindness and generosity and love, that it would astound you. don't look far away for your heroes. if the situation were right, your heroes could be your next door neighbors, the people that pass you by on the street...
... and, i hope, if there ever is need, that hero could be me or you.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
flight
it is 2:50 am right now. the alarm would have gone off at 3, but i stopped it.
the moon is bright tonight, casting its light with wanton abandon upon the blind and sleeping landscape. it paints a broad and spreading quadrilateral through the window, reaching all the way to my forearm, as i lie here on the carpet typing. maybe the moon wants to see me. maybe it wants to burn me with its cold reflective light.
it has been a trying, somewhat surreal week. there have been events occurring at my school that have been strange and traumatic. i've approached those events at a distance, and with a feeling (if you can call it that) of detachment and disbelief. a school is a community, a community that is built and woven out of the fabric of the larger community it occupies, and knitted and stitched tightly by the faculty and staff who work there. it is a community founded on the highest aspirations, to care for and nurture young souls. it is a shock when something happens to that community, when an act of senseless violence occurs... such an event sends shockwaves throughout the community, fraying the ties that hold the community together. in short, it makes us all feel alone, if only partially.
that is why there are so many efforts (worthy) taken by the counselors and administration to help us to feel that we are NOT alone in this...
my greatest concern lies with the individual who was directly involved in the attack. i hope that person is well. i hope that person realizes that the community of the school would like to help, to heal... we all pray for that person.
***
at times, (several, in fact) i feel as though my life is in a rut. don't get me wrong, it is a comfortable (more or less) rut, and i am thankful for everything within it, especially my family. but there are only so many ways to recycle thoughts and reflections from this little valley of mine...
i think of the children in mad max: beyond thunderdome, itching for a messiah to take them away from their "happy valley" and the forgotten trauma of the "pocky clips", into "tomorrow-morrow land." i think of them waiting for the winds to stir up, and uncover the buried 747 from out of the dunes, so that some stranger could summon up wings and allow all to fly...
this, even though what lay outside of the valley was desert and destruction...
i think, no matter what, that humankind must venture out. it is an instinctual need, even though we do not have wings, the need for flight. we must see outside of ourselves, we must learn how the edges of our horizons connect to other lands, other places, other ideas, other people. it is our way of not feeling alone and decaying. it is our way of feeling, of renewing ourselves. that is how i view flight, not as an escape from the world per se, but as a way to broaden a vision of the world, to discover something new.
after all, we all need to feel that this "isn't all", if only to appreciate what we have.
i rarely dream of flight, and even rarer these days is the dreamless sleep that carries me bodily from the old day to the new (daedalus glides unwaveringly over the glassy sungilded waters, having sacrificed the fecklessness of his only son, having sacrificed all dreams, concentrating only on navigating his manmade wings to the shore beyond)... i want that dreamless flight to happen, to allow the world to turn, and turn away, to keep the darkness of this night behind me, and awaken with the sun, a new person, in a new day.
i pray for this, the capacity to forget. in forgetting, we remember who we are.
(and in remembering, we forget who we are.)
the moon is bright tonight, casting its light with wanton abandon upon the blind and sleeping landscape. it paints a broad and spreading quadrilateral through the window, reaching all the way to my forearm, as i lie here on the carpet typing. maybe the moon wants to see me. maybe it wants to burn me with its cold reflective light.
it has been a trying, somewhat surreal week. there have been events occurring at my school that have been strange and traumatic. i've approached those events at a distance, and with a feeling (if you can call it that) of detachment and disbelief. a school is a community, a community that is built and woven out of the fabric of the larger community it occupies, and knitted and stitched tightly by the faculty and staff who work there. it is a community founded on the highest aspirations, to care for and nurture young souls. it is a shock when something happens to that community, when an act of senseless violence occurs... such an event sends shockwaves throughout the community, fraying the ties that hold the community together. in short, it makes us all feel alone, if only partially.
that is why there are so many efforts (worthy) taken by the counselors and administration to help us to feel that we are NOT alone in this...
my greatest concern lies with the individual who was directly involved in the attack. i hope that person is well. i hope that person realizes that the community of the school would like to help, to heal... we all pray for that person.
***
at times, (several, in fact) i feel as though my life is in a rut. don't get me wrong, it is a comfortable (more or less) rut, and i am thankful for everything within it, especially my family. but there are only so many ways to recycle thoughts and reflections from this little valley of mine...
i think of the children in mad max: beyond thunderdome, itching for a messiah to take them away from their "happy valley" and the forgotten trauma of the "pocky clips", into "tomorrow-morrow land." i think of them waiting for the winds to stir up, and uncover the buried 747 from out of the dunes, so that some stranger could summon up wings and allow all to fly...
this, even though what lay outside of the valley was desert and destruction...
i think, no matter what, that humankind must venture out. it is an instinctual need, even though we do not have wings, the need for flight. we must see outside of ourselves, we must learn how the edges of our horizons connect to other lands, other places, other ideas, other people. it is our way of not feeling alone and decaying. it is our way of feeling, of renewing ourselves. that is how i view flight, not as an escape from the world per se, but as a way to broaden a vision of the world, to discover something new.
after all, we all need to feel that this "isn't all", if only to appreciate what we have.
i rarely dream of flight, and even rarer these days is the dreamless sleep that carries me bodily from the old day to the new (daedalus glides unwaveringly over the glassy sungilded waters, having sacrificed the fecklessness of his only son, having sacrificed all dreams, concentrating only on navigating his manmade wings to the shore beyond)... i want that dreamless flight to happen, to allow the world to turn, and turn away, to keep the darkness of this night behind me, and awaken with the sun, a new person, in a new day.
i pray for this, the capacity to forget. in forgetting, we remember who we are.
(and in remembering, we forget who we are.)
Sunday, October 10, 2010
recovery
i wish i didn't have to suffer my own ignorance. at times, at each new revision, i find that i cannot forgive myself for the mistakes i've made. i chant a mantra, "i hate myself," whenever i think of the person i was, the presuppositions i operated under...
i could flip things too. instead of looking at correctives from a more or less positivistic perspective, it could be that i am a fugitive, desiring peace, but constantly and relentlessly pursued by this baleful eye and mocking voice, constantly ridiculing me, staring holes through my naked innards. because, quite honestly, i feel that way all the time... guilt, shame, for my indelible imperfections, peccadilloes...
if one mantra is "i hate myself," another, spoken sharply and for mercy is, "god help me." i don't believe in a god i (or anyone else) can conceive, or i don't conceive (too much) the god that i believe in, but i like to think that it is a benevolent force that we (i) call on when i feel as though i am at the end of my spiritual rope. the "where i end and you begin." the blurry part where i am flagging and frustrated, and i need to believe that something or someone supports the ground that is falling beneath me... sometimes i talk to other "ideas" or "spirits" as well, including, most importantly, my own grandmother... shodo kawabe (who, if he knew, would probably strike me sharply with a stick for my incompetence and general wimpiness)... lao tsu... and, kanzeon sama, whom i always envision as this kind, benevolent, beautiful woman (i think i superimpose oyasama [miki nakayama] upon her as well)... kanzeon is the "one who hears", and i like to think that she hears me...
i don't expect a response, i don't expect anyone to move mountains for me... sometimes i talk to "god" just to let it out, so that i can continue.
the last mantra, spoken when i am strong and quiet, and decide to try for truth, is my koan: "who am i?"
***
i slept a lot this week. and the rest of the time, i drifted through familial obligations. don't get me wrong, i loved being with my family, i live for them... but i always felt haunted by the other things that i was failing at, always failing at... and i always have been pushing my kids (since that, i feel, is one of my failings) to practice, trying, in a meek and meager way, to keep them up to speed...
there are always other voices speaking through a parent. those who aren't parents don't understand. they think that you remain yourself when you become a parent, and you speak with the same "wisdom" you had as a child, the "wisdom" of one who believes in letting things go and grow as they would... no, when you become a parent, you hear so many other voices. and you pay attention to the world in a way that you never did before. you become concerned over morality, over the future, over a thousand things that you thought "went by themselves." when you are a parent, you realize that nothing goes by itself, nothing speaks for itself. you have to take all the voices of the world. you have to help your child to speak...
...and you don't. that's the paradox, i suppose. but those who are naive to think that parenting is just easy, take it easy, be hands off, well, they never had the kids that i do, and they never had the worries and concerns that i do.
***
anyway, i am drifting on tides. as time gets closer to pressing deadlines, i start to quicken, like water naturally builds its momentum and gathers itself together, just before the fall off a cliff. that's me... unable to churn myself, only circumstance can make me move...
dreams come and go. i wake every night at 3. i wander out of bed, still somewhat tired (or at least not motivated enough to face responsibilities in the empty and lonely time of 3 am, filled with persecutions and guilt). i go to the 2nd floor "art room," lie on the couch, sometimes with nothing to cover me but the pillows (buried, comfortably, as in a grave of softness), and pray. i talk to god. and then, somehow, as the sun is slowly coming up, i drift for a time into sleep. sometimes, the dreams that come to me in those last hours are happy, but i never remember them. they never sustain me. they are a brief respite from my pursuer, the hatred, the corrector, the revisioning of me... nothing goes without saying. nothing is said without a good editing.
***
tonight will likely be the same. the promises of all the things i sought to accomplish, left by the wayside in favor of other motivations, motivations that i cannot resist, because they are so apparent, so clear, so close, and so real. there is no will in me, just the appreciation of surfaces... sometimes, i justify this or am able to justify this lack of will by saying, for example, that it is good that i spend some time with my family, with my wife, my daughter, my son... and a part of me agrees, and believes this to be true... but really, it is because i am going through motions, there is no will left in me to move the sisyphisus stone. i must let life roll, and follow. for now, i follow the stone down the hill...
i could flip things too. instead of looking at correctives from a more or less positivistic perspective, it could be that i am a fugitive, desiring peace, but constantly and relentlessly pursued by this baleful eye and mocking voice, constantly ridiculing me, staring holes through my naked innards. because, quite honestly, i feel that way all the time... guilt, shame, for my indelible imperfections, peccadilloes...
if one mantra is "i hate myself," another, spoken sharply and for mercy is, "god help me." i don't believe in a god i (or anyone else) can conceive, or i don't conceive (too much) the god that i believe in, but i like to think that it is a benevolent force that we (i) call on when i feel as though i am at the end of my spiritual rope. the "where i end and you begin." the blurry part where i am flagging and frustrated, and i need to believe that something or someone supports the ground that is falling beneath me... sometimes i talk to other "ideas" or "spirits" as well, including, most importantly, my own grandmother... shodo kawabe (who, if he knew, would probably strike me sharply with a stick for my incompetence and general wimpiness)... lao tsu... and, kanzeon sama, whom i always envision as this kind, benevolent, beautiful woman (i think i superimpose oyasama [miki nakayama] upon her as well)... kanzeon is the "one who hears", and i like to think that she hears me...
i don't expect a response, i don't expect anyone to move mountains for me... sometimes i talk to "god" just to let it out, so that i can continue.
the last mantra, spoken when i am strong and quiet, and decide to try for truth, is my koan: "who am i?"
***
i slept a lot this week. and the rest of the time, i drifted through familial obligations. don't get me wrong, i loved being with my family, i live for them... but i always felt haunted by the other things that i was failing at, always failing at... and i always have been pushing my kids (since that, i feel, is one of my failings) to practice, trying, in a meek and meager way, to keep them up to speed...
there are always other voices speaking through a parent. those who aren't parents don't understand. they think that you remain yourself when you become a parent, and you speak with the same "wisdom" you had as a child, the "wisdom" of one who believes in letting things go and grow as they would... no, when you become a parent, you hear so many other voices. and you pay attention to the world in a way that you never did before. you become concerned over morality, over the future, over a thousand things that you thought "went by themselves." when you are a parent, you realize that nothing goes by itself, nothing speaks for itself. you have to take all the voices of the world. you have to help your child to speak...
...and you don't. that's the paradox, i suppose. but those who are naive to think that parenting is just easy, take it easy, be hands off, well, they never had the kids that i do, and they never had the worries and concerns that i do.
***
anyway, i am drifting on tides. as time gets closer to pressing deadlines, i start to quicken, like water naturally builds its momentum and gathers itself together, just before the fall off a cliff. that's me... unable to churn myself, only circumstance can make me move...
dreams come and go. i wake every night at 3. i wander out of bed, still somewhat tired (or at least not motivated enough to face responsibilities in the empty and lonely time of 3 am, filled with persecutions and guilt). i go to the 2nd floor "art room," lie on the couch, sometimes with nothing to cover me but the pillows (buried, comfortably, as in a grave of softness), and pray. i talk to god. and then, somehow, as the sun is slowly coming up, i drift for a time into sleep. sometimes, the dreams that come to me in those last hours are happy, but i never remember them. they never sustain me. they are a brief respite from my pursuer, the hatred, the corrector, the revisioning of me... nothing goes without saying. nothing is said without a good editing.
***
tonight will likely be the same. the promises of all the things i sought to accomplish, left by the wayside in favor of other motivations, motivations that i cannot resist, because they are so apparent, so clear, so close, and so real. there is no will in me, just the appreciation of surfaces... sometimes, i justify this or am able to justify this lack of will by saying, for example, that it is good that i spend some time with my family, with my wife, my daughter, my son... and a part of me agrees, and believes this to be true... but really, it is because i am going through motions, there is no will left in me to move the sisyphisus stone. i must let life roll, and follow. for now, i follow the stone down the hill...
lately, i have been having aspirations to make my house and home self-sustaining. i have been peeking at aquaponics videos on youtube, and looking up how to start a honeybee hive (partially because of the whole colony collapse problem occurring worldwide, and partially because i enjoy seeing so many pollen-laden bees hovering over my growing allysum and portulaca fields - btw, allysum smells just like sweet honey!). i also idly think about installing solar onto our house (we still don't even have the basic solar water heater right now).
i worry deeply about the future of my family and society in general. hawaii is an isolated place. we need to import most everything we need from outside. even the majority of our electricity is produced via oil shipped in from outside. with fluctuations in oil prices, our energy infrastructure is extremely vulnerable. our food supply is also very vulnerable, as we don't have the agriculture to sustain our population, should something drastic occur, and shipments of food from outside cease.
there is talk of developing areas adjacent to the h-2 freeway. some of that land is prime agricultural land. there is also talk of developing the land along kam highway leading to the north shore, also prime ag land. now, i know that there is always a need for affordable housing here in hawaii, but let's face it, we live on an island, and we have finite resources and finite space. we cannot keep building indefinitely. there must be a limit to development. also, if we build over prime ag land, then we cannot "unbuild," and restore that land to its agricultural function. if we take away prime ag land, then we reduce our capacity to produce food for export, and, more importantly, food that could sustain us in the possible situation of a lack of food imports.
so i worry about that.
i don't like to be political about things, but quite honestly, republicans and the tea party are holding our country back in a time when intelligent and timely action is necessary. they speak of the national deficit, and somehow characterize themselves as "conservatives" (such a misnomer, and an ill-conceived political ideology), when it was their reckless policies that brought our country into the financial crisis it is in today. it truly disgusts me, the kind of blatant flat out lies and rhetoric that the republicans/tea party spew out in order to justify their baseless positions. they truly are the party of "no," as in "no future."
i don't understand the constituency of the republican party. in my mind, they consist primarily of the rich, who are selfish in the sense of attempting to safeguard their own wealth and prevent government oversight over their tax evasion and laissez faire economic policies (i.e. couched as "less central government"). and then, there are the helpless (and, i'm sorry, brainless) sheep (a lot of them poorly educated ["global warming and evolution are myths?!?"]) who are somehow duped into thinking that the republican party somehow stands for them. some of these people are convinced that the republican party is the party of morality; this, even though republicans have hardly advanced the cause of such hot button issues as abortion, and only pay face value to these in order to garner votes from the "christian conservatives." republicans try to say they are the party of the people, of the "small business owner," even though the tax cuts that they are all hot over would only influence the highest income brackets, and would have nothing to do with the so-called "mom and pop shops" that they seem to be speaking to and for. it's all a crock of s**t. honestly, guys.
i heard the end of the president's address this afternoon. and then, i heard the so-called republican rebuttal, delivered by the senator from wyoming (can't recall his name). he mentioned some platitude from the "west," something about how in the west, we all keep our promises. he then went on to say how president obama has failed to keep any of his promises. honestly. president obama has had to deal with a whole lot of crap leftover from the ruinous eight year republican rein, AND he HAS (unlike most politicians) actually delivered on several of his campaign promises, albeit in less than ideal form (largely because of republican bullheadedness and obstructionism)... i won't detail the senator's speech; let's just say that it was layered bullshit. same old same old republican speech strategy: a bunch of high-sounding lies, words taken out of context, no facts (or facts taken out of context and "spun")...
again, i don't want to talk politics, it is very bad to do so... but i can't stand how they are ruining our country, and ruining our world. if things head where they are going, then it will be a hollow victory for the rest of us to say, "i told you so" as the world goes to hell... thom yorke aptly captured the whole republican mentality in his song "idioteque": "take the money and run." yes, republicans, take all the money you can, and run... where? spend it... where? the world you deny and destroy is the same world you live in. you republicans talk about "tomorrow" (i.e., concern over federal spending, leaving a debt for "tomorrow") when it was YOU who created this problem; what about the environmental "tomorrow," the educational "tomorrow," the international peace "tomorrow?" all republicans are really concerned about, in my mind, is tomorrow's paycheck...
whew. sorry, had to get that off my chest. no one reads this stuff anyway... (hopefully?) and i'm not a politico by any means, hate politics...
i worry deeply about the future of my family and society in general. hawaii is an isolated place. we need to import most everything we need from outside. even the majority of our electricity is produced via oil shipped in from outside. with fluctuations in oil prices, our energy infrastructure is extremely vulnerable. our food supply is also very vulnerable, as we don't have the agriculture to sustain our population, should something drastic occur, and shipments of food from outside cease.
there is talk of developing areas adjacent to the h-2 freeway. some of that land is prime agricultural land. there is also talk of developing the land along kam highway leading to the north shore, also prime ag land. now, i know that there is always a need for affordable housing here in hawaii, but let's face it, we live on an island, and we have finite resources and finite space. we cannot keep building indefinitely. there must be a limit to development. also, if we build over prime ag land, then we cannot "unbuild," and restore that land to its agricultural function. if we take away prime ag land, then we reduce our capacity to produce food for export, and, more importantly, food that could sustain us in the possible situation of a lack of food imports.
so i worry about that.
i don't like to be political about things, but quite honestly, republicans and the tea party are holding our country back in a time when intelligent and timely action is necessary. they speak of the national deficit, and somehow characterize themselves as "conservatives" (such a misnomer, and an ill-conceived political ideology), when it was their reckless policies that brought our country into the financial crisis it is in today. it truly disgusts me, the kind of blatant flat out lies and rhetoric that the republicans/tea party spew out in order to justify their baseless positions. they truly are the party of "no," as in "no future."
i don't understand the constituency of the republican party. in my mind, they consist primarily of the rich, who are selfish in the sense of attempting to safeguard their own wealth and prevent government oversight over their tax evasion and laissez faire economic policies (i.e. couched as "less central government"). and then, there are the helpless (and, i'm sorry, brainless) sheep (a lot of them poorly educated ["global warming and evolution are myths?!?"]) who are somehow duped into thinking that the republican party somehow stands for them. some of these people are convinced that the republican party is the party of morality; this, even though republicans have hardly advanced the cause of such hot button issues as abortion, and only pay face value to these in order to garner votes from the "christian conservatives." republicans try to say they are the party of the people, of the "small business owner," even though the tax cuts that they are all hot over would only influence the highest income brackets, and would have nothing to do with the so-called "mom and pop shops" that they seem to be speaking to and for. it's all a crock of s**t. honestly, guys.
i heard the end of the president's address this afternoon. and then, i heard the so-called republican rebuttal, delivered by the senator from wyoming (can't recall his name). he mentioned some platitude from the "west," something about how in the west, we all keep our promises. he then went on to say how president obama has failed to keep any of his promises. honestly. president obama has had to deal with a whole lot of crap leftover from the ruinous eight year republican rein, AND he HAS (unlike most politicians) actually delivered on several of his campaign promises, albeit in less than ideal form (largely because of republican bullheadedness and obstructionism)... i won't detail the senator's speech; let's just say that it was layered bullshit. same old same old republican speech strategy: a bunch of high-sounding lies, words taken out of context, no facts (or facts taken out of context and "spun")...
again, i don't want to talk politics, it is very bad to do so... but i can't stand how they are ruining our country, and ruining our world. if things head where they are going, then it will be a hollow victory for the rest of us to say, "i told you so" as the world goes to hell... thom yorke aptly captured the whole republican mentality in his song "idioteque": "take the money and run." yes, republicans, take all the money you can, and run... where? spend it... where? the world you deny and destroy is the same world you live in. you republicans talk about "tomorrow" (i.e., concern over federal spending, leaving a debt for "tomorrow") when it was YOU who created this problem; what about the environmental "tomorrow," the educational "tomorrow," the international peace "tomorrow?" all republicans are really concerned about, in my mind, is tomorrow's paycheck...
whew. sorry, had to get that off my chest. no one reads this stuff anyway... (hopefully?) and i'm not a politico by any means, hate politics...
Friday, October 1, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
it is a very difficult thing for me, this push and pull thing that is being a father. it breaks my heart, it breaks me apart. makes me crazy.
this afternoon, i came home from work. my wife was home, and had been working with my son on a shapes exercise. let me contextualize some of our situation with our son. lately, we have been hearing from "spectators" left and right about what we "should" do about some of his problems (as if we didn't know, as if we haven't tried). much of the "advice" had to do with "being consistent", "being stern", etc. again, as if we (or i) hadn't already tried... i had just resolved a few weeks ago to be a more loving and accepting parent (something which i still am, deep inside i know my son to be a miraculous and uniquely compassionate person), but i guess the combination of the "buzzards" around me and today's particular situation and exhaustion, whatever, it caused me to snap...
so for this exercise, my son had to sort shapes. and when i asked him what a particular basic shape was, he couldn't tell me the name of it. now, this isn't some obscure shape; it's one of the basic everyday shapes that pretty much any preschooler knows. i suppose that really shocked me. it just floored me. i had to walk away in disbelief.
"they" say that all it takes is working with a child, spending time with a child, to "get up to speed." let me tell you, i spend every free moment i can with my children, trying to help them. and still, after all the incremental improvements, after all the positive encouragement, etc., there are these moments where - well, where you feel the ground simply fall away under you...
i suppose i went on kind of berserk. i worked with my son on his shapes assignment, and then on his reading response assignment, with a kind of zeal... the shock i guess had forced the chorus of "spectators" around me to suddenly have a voice, an intense and insistent voice... maybe they were right, maybe all the "appreciation" and encouragement that i had sought to cultivate was wrong, maybe all i needed was to push him harder and harder... after all, i mean, come on, he didn't know what that shape was?!?
i worked with him for a long time. he was supposed to attend soccer this afternoon (a sport with its own host of problems for him), but i told him he had to finish his homework. in a dim corner of my mind, i could feel that this whole thing amounted to some kind of torture, me holding him to task, being relentless about keeping him up to some sort of "standard" of normalcy that the crowd had put into my head... things shouldn't be this way, and by god, i will force him to be where he should be... that sort of ridiculous notion.
let's just say that by the end, he was exhausted, and i was exhausted. i had shouted so much that the nosy persnickety neighbor next door was standing in her yard listening (perhaps debating on calling on a domestic abuse incident). it was embarrassing on some level, but to be honest, a part of me didn't care. "they" (the spectators, the crowd) weren't here, they didn't have to live with the burden of this problem, "they" only always have their stinking opinions and advice. OF COURSE my child has something going on... they never listen to all the good that he is, or the possibility that the way he is has little to do with how hard he tries...
and because i was weak, i didn't listen to this either. i pushed. i pushed hard.
and now it is 3 am and i can't stop thinking about how i took the low road, and tried to force my son to change. i wander into his room and out, i watch him sleeping with buzz lightyear and his protective silly bands around his wrist, and i think about what a monster i have become, i think about how i may be damaging this precious, caring, sensitive young soul.
and i hate the world for its opinions, its "well-intentioned" advice.
i am here with my son. every day is a lesson in catch and release. it's a gentle game, and the object is and isn't to get him to be better. the game is the game. i want to be with my son in a place where i can hear him laugh in his voice, i can hear his happiness, and not the happiness i have imposed upon him for being a monkey jumping through a hoop. love is holding hands, leading, and letting go. it's always a changing, shifting dance. i am his father, and in my heart of hearts, i know this. it's just- i wish the world would stop telling me i don't know what i am doing, that i don't know my son, or what's best for him.
i know him. i know him. please let me just play with him this game.
***
we appreciate a soul when we eulogize it. i try to eulogize my son every day. because every day the boy i knew may have died, and i will be seeing something new take its place. i will record in my heart everything i know about my son, in the time that i have. i want his laughter to be burned into me, i want the joy of sharing it to have a chamber in my heart, where it can live forever. no one will be able to take it away from me. definitely not the "spectators," who think they know better.
the relationship between a father and son, it is inviolable. it is the closest thing to a sacred thing that there is...
this afternoon, i came home from work. my wife was home, and had been working with my son on a shapes exercise. let me contextualize some of our situation with our son. lately, we have been hearing from "spectators" left and right about what we "should" do about some of his problems (as if we didn't know, as if we haven't tried). much of the "advice" had to do with "being consistent", "being stern", etc. again, as if we (or i) hadn't already tried... i had just resolved a few weeks ago to be a more loving and accepting parent (something which i still am, deep inside i know my son to be a miraculous and uniquely compassionate person), but i guess the combination of the "buzzards" around me and today's particular situation and exhaustion, whatever, it caused me to snap...
so for this exercise, my son had to sort shapes. and when i asked him what a particular basic shape was, he couldn't tell me the name of it. now, this isn't some obscure shape; it's one of the basic everyday shapes that pretty much any preschooler knows. i suppose that really shocked me. it just floored me. i had to walk away in disbelief.
"they" say that all it takes is working with a child, spending time with a child, to "get up to speed." let me tell you, i spend every free moment i can with my children, trying to help them. and still, after all the incremental improvements, after all the positive encouragement, etc., there are these moments where - well, where you feel the ground simply fall away under you...
i suppose i went on kind of berserk. i worked with my son on his shapes assignment, and then on his reading response assignment, with a kind of zeal... the shock i guess had forced the chorus of "spectators" around me to suddenly have a voice, an intense and insistent voice... maybe they were right, maybe all the "appreciation" and encouragement that i had sought to cultivate was wrong, maybe all i needed was to push him harder and harder... after all, i mean, come on, he didn't know what that shape was?!?
i worked with him for a long time. he was supposed to attend soccer this afternoon (a sport with its own host of problems for him), but i told him he had to finish his homework. in a dim corner of my mind, i could feel that this whole thing amounted to some kind of torture, me holding him to task, being relentless about keeping him up to some sort of "standard" of normalcy that the crowd had put into my head... things shouldn't be this way, and by god, i will force him to be where he should be... that sort of ridiculous notion.
let's just say that by the end, he was exhausted, and i was exhausted. i had shouted so much that the nosy persnickety neighbor next door was standing in her yard listening (perhaps debating on calling on a domestic abuse incident). it was embarrassing on some level, but to be honest, a part of me didn't care. "they" (the spectators, the crowd) weren't here, they didn't have to live with the burden of this problem, "they" only always have their stinking opinions and advice. OF COURSE my child has something going on... they never listen to all the good that he is, or the possibility that the way he is has little to do with how hard he tries...
and because i was weak, i didn't listen to this either. i pushed. i pushed hard.
and now it is 3 am and i can't stop thinking about how i took the low road, and tried to force my son to change. i wander into his room and out, i watch him sleeping with buzz lightyear and his protective silly bands around his wrist, and i think about what a monster i have become, i think about how i may be damaging this precious, caring, sensitive young soul.
and i hate the world for its opinions, its "well-intentioned" advice.
i am here with my son. every day is a lesson in catch and release. it's a gentle game, and the object is and isn't to get him to be better. the game is the game. i want to be with my son in a place where i can hear him laugh in his voice, i can hear his happiness, and not the happiness i have imposed upon him for being a monkey jumping through a hoop. love is holding hands, leading, and letting go. it's always a changing, shifting dance. i am his father, and in my heart of hearts, i know this. it's just- i wish the world would stop telling me i don't know what i am doing, that i don't know my son, or what's best for him.
i know him. i know him. please let me just play with him this game.
***
we appreciate a soul when we eulogize it. i try to eulogize my son every day. because every day the boy i knew may have died, and i will be seeing something new take its place. i will record in my heart everything i know about my son, in the time that i have. i want his laughter to be burned into me, i want the joy of sharing it to have a chamber in my heart, where it can live forever. no one will be able to take it away from me. definitely not the "spectators," who think they know better.
the relationship between a father and son, it is inviolable. it is the closest thing to a sacred thing that there is...
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