Some people are not supposed to be parents. I think they know this, deep down. They lack a certain thing that others have. Or maybe it’s that they have a certain thing that others lack? In any case… parenting is not meant for them.
I think they know this. They all do.
Some readily admit it but others, they hide it. Even from themselves.
These are the people I don’t understand. Because they are willing to ride the lie all the way to the maternity ward, in some cases.
Why do people have children if they don’t want to?
And worse, why do they have more children when they have failed so miserably at patenting the ones they already have?
Is it the unwillingness to admit the failure? Is it invisible pressure? Is it the desire to put another quarter in the video game again and again… and again, until they have passed that stubborn level and won the elusive medal?
Maybe it’s all of those things.
I don’t know.
But I know it’s wrong.
There are no do-overs at parenting. No bonus “lives”.
It’s too important.
As it should be.
“The only way to have an interesting life is to do interesting things.”
I read that on another blog this week, and somewhere way deep down inside, in a place I had long-since forgotten (or inadvertently pushed aside amidst the rush of life, more likely)… a little light went on.
Haven’t seen that light in a while.
Didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it’s warmth.
Curious what path it might show me next.
I’ve never been good at standing still.
Being still and at peace, enjoying the moment– this I can do. But standing still requires a certain amount of pessimism.
No, more than that.
It requires a certain lack of… Hope. Yes, a certain lack of hope.
That’s just not how I’m built. My god I get depressed just typing that phrase: “a certain lack of Hope”.
The cloud looming overhead, lurking around everyone I know, is formidable. The sheer weight of it, you know? If ever there was a time for lacking, surely it is now.
No, I’ve never been good at standing still. But hide-and-seek is another matter. My seeking skills are unmatched in the human world, my friend.
I know there is a path hiding here somewhere, and I’m determined to seek it out. I can feel it, whispering to my soul…
It’s difficult to focus.
It seems like another piece of a terrible puzzle falls into place every day and before I have fully reconciled the image before me, it has suddenly changed again.
Always shifting. Like trying to read a road sign through a downpour.
Is that the goal? To keep us so off balance that don’t dare pause to ask why? Or that we will so exhaust ourselves with the asking again, and again… and again, that we will lack the energy to DO anything about the answers?
If so, it may be working.
How far my beloved home has fallen. Will the sun have an encore in my lifetime?
Right now, I just don’t know.