Uptight parents breed up-tight children. And in my opinion an uptight kid is about as inspiring as the SATs. The uptight archetype is hard for me to get down with because the origin of this neurotic thinking is based on control. The need to control this crazy spontaneous unpredictable universe seems futile to me. My personal philosophy is to trust the ride. It may make you dizzy and barf humanity all over your chest, but that is the point. There is a lesson to letting go and surrendering to the teachings life has to bring.
So when I encounter uptight children with their uptight parents I really take a stand. I do this by talking shit about them to myself in my head while acting perfectly polite and cordial.
This afternoon Munch and I brought our dog Mona to the beach to run around and go swimming. Seems like a delightful thing to do right? Mona was chasing sticks and we were playing in the water enjoying the candors of being in nature. A mother and her two kids came with their puppy who was quite boisterous and wanted to play with Mona. Yet every time the dog ran towards us it would choke on its leash that attached him to one of the children. The dog wanted to swim in the water, chase the ball, run after birds, but all you could hear was its gasping wheeze from being caught by the leash reeling him back in.
The quite had been replaced by “Barnaby no! Barnaby stop! Barnaby no you stop that this instance!”
This whole scene was so bothersome to me. Why didn’t they just let their dog off the leash and enjoy life. He was only a puppy and he wanted to run around. That is what puppies do! Why are you trying to contain this being who is so desperately longing to be unrestricted.
I then created this whole scenario about this family in my head. How the marriage was probably sexless and full of resentment; that the husband and wife feared intimacy because it was too messy, and didn’t sleep together for the same reason. I then saw the children as having no understanding of how to be children. Trapped in tiny bodies with the anxiety of an adult. I could see them at school, unable to relate to their peers with their psyches smothered by feelings of superiority incapacitating their ability to relish in magic of youth.
Yeah, I pretty much had their misery all figured out.
So when the son came near me as Mona kept stealing Barnaby’s ball, I decided to reach out to him. Maybe our interaction would breathe some freedom into his spirit.
“Is Barnaby a puppy?”
“Yeah, he is just five months so he is still biting everyone and thing. So we keep him on a leash until he learns.”