When do we stop being our kids’ lawyers? And why?
My friends know that no matter what I am a kids’ pro bono lawyer on a 24/24, seven days a week duty.
My colleague was upset. At his daycare, her four year son drew a picture of him in future. It was a black painting with couple of squares underneath and a sketch for a human being. „Shall I take this to a psychoanalyst?!”. She looked determined. Relieved she did not say “shrink”!
”Why?” I asked in dismay. „Have you asked him, your son, what he meant to draw?” . „Yes, in the morning”.
„And?”. „He told me the black was for the smoke from a huge fire, and the squares are firefighter trucks and the boy is him in the future, a firefighter!”.
„See, I told her, no need for a psychoanalyst. All you need is to ask him. And I think he is altruistic, concerned about others’ needs, generous and used black/bold to draw attention to danger.”
There was a momentary mental shift in her head, on this occasion at least, I hope.
Children give back what they get or they raise above. Have no expectations of them being our lawyers in due time, if we have not exemplified this role ourselves.
My child is very quick in ordering her father to kiss me. The other day, he asked her to tell me to kiss him. She made a gesture saying there is nothing I can do 🙂
Reading “Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather” by the Chinese writer Gao Xingjian
I realised I was never homesick. And it made me sad.
I had a home, that is a place to stay, with a roof and walls. My emotional associations therewith were of an orphan longing to escape. As soon as the opportunity materialised itself, I joyfully departed for good, with a bag of cloths in my hand. Only to return on a couple of unhappy occasions, which became more and more distant and reduced to none over the last years.
There were many whys in my mind. Why a home is rejecting instead of welcoming? Why those who live there are trapped in their own unhappiness? Why a home is not cherished as it should be?…. .
Responses to these and other whys do not matter anymore to me. I learned to build a home in my heart. It stays with me, wherever I go. It welcomes happy thoughts and happy people. It accepts me as I am. It offers shelter when I need it. It asks nothing of me. It gives me plenty. I realise it also saves me from being homesick to the point of physical or mental illness.
I later built my own nest for my family. My life taught me to cherish and protect it and make it a space crowned with love. My partner still prefers to say “I’m coming home to you”.
Home is where love is. It can be your house. It can be a tree house. It can be your heart. What matters is how it makes you feel. Today and everyday.
“The World sends us garbage. We send back music” Favio Chavez, Orchestra Director
This is how the teaser for the upcoming documentary “Landfill Harmonic starts.
Simple words. Powerful love message. Anything can be recycled with Love.
” The film introduces the town of Cateura, a slum in Paraguay built atop a landfill where residents have created music from the trash heaped upon them. Scouring the rubbish, the determined music-lovers have built violins, cellos, and other classical instruments, resulting in the “Recycled Orchestra.”
This kind of happy encounters warm your heart and produce a mental shift into better at a time when you most need it.
Think about it: what is worth it and what is not: the orchestra plays in a place ‘where a violin costs more than a house” 🙂