I had to take him in my arms, my nephew was of the age when we start to doubt ourselves, struggling with our appearance, clueless about our place in the world. I had to form a protective ring around his low self-esteem.
My father was aging, his pride in his independence was fading as he had to ask help for things which were too 'new generation' for him, I had to take care of him through creating a predictable routine. I had to return his pride, his sense of control. When your parents are a certain age, the best thing you can do is make a predictable routine for them ; it is the time for your medicine, for your eye drops, for your medical tests, for your meal, for your walk . You have to remind them of the timetable until it is ingrained in them. You have to make them independent again, give them a timetable to live for as we slowly start our own new lives. It's not too different from the time when they made a routine for us. It's more important for them. We had a life to look forward to, they have one they look backwards at. Who has more reason to go on?
My mother was under intense pressure, sometimes of her own imagination, and sometimes just because there was no one else who could take better care of everyone else. At each instance, when her anxiety made ripples in my own personal peace, I had to be quiet for that initial, tough one minute after provocation which is the most tempting, when our sudden reaction comes pouring out like hot lava, promising us a release that we never get to experience. In doing that, in knowing that she had a cause, in trying to debate with her reasonably mostly, if not at all times, I tried to be someone she could look up to . As her anxieties took liberties with her, I had to let her take liberties with me. Isn't there usually that person in our lives? The one we know we can take liberties with, without the fear of losing them ! If i do that, if i stretch the limits of my calm demeanor , It makes her feel all is not lost when she is imagining the worst possible outcome for everything. If you feel everything is lost and somebody talks to you in an unperturbed voice and listens to you attentively, you feel that there is someone above that affliction. I had to be that someone above affliction.
The hardest thing was loving the people I had differences with. How can I mix up with girls who are judgmental about others? How can i respect the people who are unfair to others? It stopped me dead in my tracks of socializing. It seemed to me that there was no point .
But I also realize that a person is never too happy for another person's happiness unless he is fulfilled and completely at peace with himself. If somebody tries to bring the other person down, he is actually in more pain , the agony of the one who is jealous far outlasts the annoyance felt by his subject. The pain of wondering that are others better that you? and portraying just the opposite image of being better than them. These preoccupations must leave you no room to explore anything of value that you have to offer.
The hardest task was learning to empathize with these people. because loving them imposed a real question for me. If i empathize with the wrong doer, do i stand to lose distinction of right and wrong? do i cease to stand with the one who is wronged? Do i fail to hold the hand of the victim? . How can i empathize with a cheater without being another person who abandoned his partner. I felt I couldn't do that. It kept me divided, it kept me in a state of limbo. I'd think : 'Why did you do this to someone else'. And I did not respect that person. Then I realized there were only a few people who remained in my heart after i had applied this criteria. Because all of us hunt each other down, at some point, for one reason or another. I also realized the lines between right and wrong aren't black and white always. They are grey, they take a lot of guessing. Without losing my sense of justice, I began to open my heart to the wrong-doer. The one who realized his mistake, and the one who floated on his denial of anyone else's goodness. They were both troubled, though differently. I realized If I had chosen to cut off from them, they would have lost a person who could remind them , gently, politely, and without anything in it for herself, of the injustice they were perpetrating. At the end of the day, however, I went to bed with the victim's spirit, I fondled it, and it was the one I loved truly. This is how I didn't lose distinction between right and wrong.
You can live like this, creating protective halos around the people you love, the ones you know, or the vulnerable ones. Before you know it, they have become the anchors for you, the reasons to believe in your own substantial role in this arbitrary life.
But I also realize that a person is never too happy for another person's happiness unless he is fulfilled and completely at peace with himself. If somebody tries to bring the other person down, he is actually in more pain , the agony of the one who is jealous far outlasts the annoyance felt by his subject. The pain of wondering that are others better that you? and portraying just the opposite image of being better than them. These preoccupations must leave you no room to explore anything of value that you have to offer.
The hardest task was learning to empathize with these people. because loving them imposed a real question for me. If i empathize with the wrong doer, do i stand to lose distinction of right and wrong? do i cease to stand with the one who is wronged? Do i fail to hold the hand of the victim? . How can i empathize with a cheater without being another person who abandoned his partner. I felt I couldn't do that. It kept me divided, it kept me in a state of limbo. I'd think : 'Why did you do this to someone else'. And I did not respect that person. Then I realized there were only a few people who remained in my heart after i had applied this criteria. Because all of us hunt each other down, at some point, for one reason or another. I also realized the lines between right and wrong aren't black and white always. They are grey, they take a lot of guessing. Without losing my sense of justice, I began to open my heart to the wrong-doer. The one who realized his mistake, and the one who floated on his denial of anyone else's goodness. They were both troubled, though differently. I realized If I had chosen to cut off from them, they would have lost a person who could remind them , gently, politely, and without anything in it for herself, of the injustice they were perpetrating. At the end of the day, however, I went to bed with the victim's spirit, I fondled it, and it was the one I loved truly. This is how I didn't lose distinction between right and wrong.
You can live like this, creating protective halos around the people you love, the ones you know, or the vulnerable ones. Before you know it, they have become the anchors for you, the reasons to believe in your own substantial role in this arbitrary life.
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