I think about writing here very frequently, but somehow there is a lacking of time and motivation.
But I think what I have to say is important, at least for later reading or posterity.
The election win for Donald Trump caused a lot of insomnia last night. I didn't want to wait for the final results, just sought some degree of communal comfort from Facebook as the agony dragged on beyond midnight. I can't tell why it bothers me so much, but I am certain it's understandable.
But then, last night, as the clock approached two, I suddenly desired to read from the parenting book that Evi had been wanting me to read. The section I was reading on and off was about connection.
How to connect to your toddler. Signs of connectedness and lacking thereof.
Why? On a political level, a social level, I am responsible for bringing up children who won't turn into a Donald Trump, someone deeply insecure of himself, whose real motivation for the presidency is power, but more immediately, the feeling of conquest. It helps that it is in part done through manipulating people also in perhaps equal measures insecure about themselves, lost much hope for their lives, and grasping for voice of comfort regardless of any substance that backs it.
This world is full of people feeling disconnected. And that starts from infancy, perhaps even before birth. Most parents can't afford, financially or emotionally, build a connected relationship.
I know because I often can't find the energy and motivation.
Reading the book about connectedness is hard.
Writing in this journal about my connection to the two boys is hard.
And I can see it in my father, who is interested in helping us more by doing chores than by spending time with the children. He doesn't know how, really, and is afraid to do it. I suspect he never knew how. It's easy to take care of children when they are well-behaved, but when they are not, adults would rather walk away, even though, according to the book, those moments are the true opportunities for connection.
The lofty goal of creating the antithesis of a Donald Trump only occur to me later, next day, after sleeping only four hours at most. The immediate realization was something more personal. I saw my helplessness in the election. I prayed to the North Star on our way back last night from casting our votes that Hillary would win. And when the probability meter on the New York Times was starting to point to Trump as the evening dragged on, I prayed in my secular ways that a miracle would happen, that the algorithm they used was flawed. I call it a miracle because I know enough about algorithms and statistics to know that the probability of such error was what a miracle warranted.
That feeling of helplessness must be felt by half of the country now. There is this feeling of frustration that there wasn't anything we could do to change the outcome.
But then it occurred to me while reading about connectedness: I could focus on what I can change in life. I can recognize what was within my control, at least compared to the presidential election. What I had a much greater control in was how I raise my children. The world is very complicated and very big, and I could, like many parents, try to pursue paths in it that are very much outside of our control. But I need not look that far. Close by are two kids presented difficult challenges that are more meaningful and obvious to me than what happens now that Trump has won. I felt already closeness to them as the realization started to settle down. Their future would be slightly affected by Trump, at least I hope. But it is much more likely to be influenced by my decisions as a parent.
I found comfort, even some replenished empowerment, in this knowledge.
I wanted to be a father because I wanted a legacy, that what makes me happy and love about the world can continue on in the incarnation of my children even after I physically no longer exist. But now I have another reason: Connection to a special set of human beings. Unlike connection to adults, this connection I have much more control over, and how I shape it gives an added desire to see yet another day. I don't mean to control my children; I mean that I can steer the ship of connection in a much more meaningful way with my children than with anything and anyone else.
And that makes me feel more human, a little more fulfilled too.
No comments:
Post a Comment