Thursday, August 31, 2017

Object Permanence

I know the sky is calling.  Angel, let me help you with your wings. 

From the moment we cut the umbilical cord, our role as parents is to help our children develop into independent, confident, happy adults.  We play peekaboo to teach them object permanence – the confidence that when we cover our eyes with our hands, we are still there.  We hold their hands as they take their first steps; hold the back of the seat, then run alongside, as they take their first bike ride.  When they skin their knees, or bump their heads, we are there to kiss it and make it better – to hold them as they cry.  Through our constancy, they learn to venture further afield; learning independence, knowing that we will be there for them at the end of their adventure.   

Then, when it is time for them to fledge, we watch, with a mixture of love and longing – knowing that the wind they follow will be of their own choosing – an expression of the independence and confidence we hope to have helped nurture. 

We so love their company that we would ask them to stay if we could.  But to keep them in the nest at this point would be as stifling as if we had glued the egg closed, so it could not hatch. 

Now it’s our turn, as parents, to trust in object permanence.  Our part is to remain constant, as always, so they know that wherever life takes them, open arms, a warm meal, and a made bed await them any time they wish to come home.    


   

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Bulwer-Lytton Contest - Horror Category Win

Former United States poet laureate William Stafford is noted for saying that the best response to writer’s block is to ‘lower your standards, and keep going.’

If one iterates this process enough times, their standards may descend to a level that makes them competitive in the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.
Anyway, I’ve apparently attained that distinction, and thanks to our local paper, my fifteen minutes of fame begins this morning. Not sure which makes me prouder – the win, or being referred to as ‘Hazel Dell man’.

And I have no idea what to say about the picture, except that I don't know whether I'll ever be able to unsee it.  

http://www.columbian.com/news/2017/aug/20/the-imagery-of-infamy-hazel-dell-man-writes-his-way-into-acclaim/