Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Life Among the "Children"

I start every morning with two things:  Spending some time with my various 'arts' and catching up with the fast-increasing, world-wide, insanity of the day.

That the first of these is a source of total, spirit-lifting, joy and the second not too different from time under a dentist's drill, is itself revealing. Why can't looking at world news be as uplifting to the spirit as are the arts?

Maybe because one is personal -- and thus liberating. The other controlled.

Some, of course, lets their "arts," too, be controlled. Yes, and their entertainment.  And thus that too is for them "ugly."  The psychology of that is interesting, but frankly far from my focus.

Yet both of my morning "starters" are equally neccasary.  The first to assure my own mental health and joy in living. The second to, hopefully, help do the same for the future of our species.

Human social passion and anger are not without purpose.  Such are much like our instinctual response to pain. We pull back and cry out. Something far better that putting our hand into a fire and then thoughtfully questioning "what's that odd and unpleasant smell?"

Children cry instinctually. It is their way of getting others to care for their needs before they are capable of caring for such themselves. But when children are effectually parented such ends.. -That because they, the "child," has learned to care for his or herself and, equally, because such have learned that they must.

It is from such growth and learning that adulthood comes.

It is the lack of that -- be it on the part of a small child who can do no other, or the "spoiled" child that has not been taught to be other -- that makes time spent in some households less than a delight.

Well, to me anyway. Some I suppose must like it.  Or think that the discomfort such causes is "just the way things are" -Something one must tolerate. Or simply ignore. Or flee from to the TV. Or out of the house. Or to the bottle..

That is why I read. And it is in part the reason why I write. -Because I believe in humanity. Adult humanity. Thoughtful humanity.

The command "go forth and multiply" isn't really about producing "kids."  It is about producing adults.

Following that command -- that of producing the next generation of adults -- is, though, getting harder to do.  Society does not encourage it.  As is, I suppose, the taking on of parenting at all when all one has largely seen are ill-disciplined children.

So people -- more and more people -- just run and hide. Look to a life of play. Something that makes them, too, in a sense "children."

Am I free from that temptation?

No.  And that is in part why I live where I do.  In one of the seemingly few remaining parts of the nation (and, perhaps, the Western World) where the old values still hold. Where men and woman are just that -- where childhood is left behind.

Why anyone would choose to live among children past the age of sixteen I cannot imagine.  Tantrums then are so unnatural. So ugly.

But, again, I look at what today passes for "art" and entertainment.  And I flee that as well.

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