We are watching Indian in the Cupboard this morning and I am thinking about what people in general do when they find they have some power.
When Omri discovers that he can make toys 'come alive' with the cupboard, he makes some horrible judgements about who and what to bring alive. Involving his friend in the process complicates matters in that he has to add the life of the cowboy to the mess he has created with the indian that he has already thrust into his choices.
The whole story has always bothered me somewhat because in Omri's case, he is indeed acting as 'god' to the little plastic figures he brings to life. He chooses who gets to go into the magical cabinet and who gets to come out. He chooses who is returned to plastic and who stays as a living being for whatever time.
How much of what we do is not much different in our own lives?
We make choices about how we bring people to life in our lives and dispose of them when we are done with them. It is a scary thing to think about. When things are good, we share our time with other people and just keep getting from them whatever we need to keep going. Sometimes we don't think about their needs at all.
I am sure there are people in the world for whom this may not be an issue. Or at least not much of one because they have learned to temper this part of their mortality.
But it is an issue I struggle with from time to time.
Whom do I choose to keep 'alive' in my life and in my relationships with other people and whom do I discard as 'plastic'?
Just pondering while watching Omri overcome the 'natural man' in the film.
January 26, 2008
January 23, 2008
Been a while
It doesn't seem like time has passed by so quickly, but it has.
The truth is, I can't seem to keep up with the days sometimes. They sort of rush past in a group as if I am not allowed to know them individually.
But the good news is, sometimes that doesn't matter much.
Aside from the confusion when I try to write the date on something, it generally isn't a big deal.
Except when it is.
Like realizing that my son has been gone for 4 whole months. Other than emails and a handful of letters, I have spoken on the phone to him in a group setting ONE TIME since he left.
It's all good.
I want him to serve and to find his way in the world as a man. The idea of a 45 year old adolescent isn't appealing at all. But I confess that I have a little counter that tells me when he will return home.
He won't need me as much in the ways that kids do. I'll learn to accept that truth in time. He won't seek out so much of my time in the way that young adults do as they try to discover their own niche in life.
But, if previous observational experience has taught me anything, there will be a different relationship altogether that is more like that of friends than parent to child when he returns. I can already sense some of that now.
Although we joke about the familiar and usual, it isn't the main thrust of our conversations now. Instead the emails we exchange tend to talk about the challenges he is facing now that he is on his own making the decisions and calling all of the shots.
Adulthood is a school we never graduate from because we keep having to repeat the coursework.
He doesn't know this yet, although he may have gotten a few hints of the coming attractions.
The good news is that he is learning to be self sufficient in ways that being at home, in our town, comfortably secure in America would NEVER teach him. There truly is something broadening about going overseas. Or so I hear.
Everyone has notches on their belts now that I don't possess. Other than Canada and Mexico, which sort of don't count because they are attached, I haven't ever left American soil.
Even swimming and floundering around in the ocean doesn't count because of that pesky national and international waters thing.
If only we had beaming technology, we could beam over for the day and sleep in our own beds at night. Beam back for breakfast and touring and head home for an afternoon nap. It would certainly have some possibilities.
No bedbugs and no hotel bills so you could splurge on food and t shirts.
I suppose since beaming technology isn't possible right now, I'll have to wait until 1 year and 8 months from now to see my boy again. But when he steps into that airport concourse, he won't be a boy anymore. He wasn't a boy when he left.
It's just hard to see that when you are the Momma.
But time will pass so fast and soon, that little sweet face will come back weathered and experienced from having gone out from home and hearth to carve a place in the world that will always and forever be his.
The truth is, I can't seem to keep up with the days sometimes. They sort of rush past in a group as if I am not allowed to know them individually.
But the good news is, sometimes that doesn't matter much.
Aside from the confusion when I try to write the date on something, it generally isn't a big deal.
Except when it is.
Like realizing that my son has been gone for 4 whole months. Other than emails and a handful of letters, I have spoken on the phone to him in a group setting ONE TIME since he left.
It's all good.
I want him to serve and to find his way in the world as a man. The idea of a 45 year old adolescent isn't appealing at all. But I confess that I have a little counter that tells me when he will return home.
He won't need me as much in the ways that kids do. I'll learn to accept that truth in time. He won't seek out so much of my time in the way that young adults do as they try to discover their own niche in life.
But, if previous observational experience has taught me anything, there will be a different relationship altogether that is more like that of friends than parent to child when he returns. I can already sense some of that now.
Although we joke about the familiar and usual, it isn't the main thrust of our conversations now. Instead the emails we exchange tend to talk about the challenges he is facing now that he is on his own making the decisions and calling all of the shots.
Adulthood is a school we never graduate from because we keep having to repeat the coursework.
He doesn't know this yet, although he may have gotten a few hints of the coming attractions.
The good news is that he is learning to be self sufficient in ways that being at home, in our town, comfortably secure in America would NEVER teach him. There truly is something broadening about going overseas. Or so I hear.
Everyone has notches on their belts now that I don't possess. Other than Canada and Mexico, which sort of don't count because they are attached, I haven't ever left American soil.
Even swimming and floundering around in the ocean doesn't count because of that pesky national and international waters thing.
If only we had beaming technology, we could beam over for the day and sleep in our own beds at night. Beam back for breakfast and touring and head home for an afternoon nap. It would certainly have some possibilities.
No bedbugs and no hotel bills so you could splurge on food and t shirts.
I suppose since beaming technology isn't possible right now, I'll have to wait until 1 year and 8 months from now to see my boy again. But when he steps into that airport concourse, he won't be a boy anymore. He wasn't a boy when he left.
It's just hard to see that when you are the Momma.
But time will pass so fast and soon, that little sweet face will come back weathered and experienced from having gone out from home and hearth to carve a place in the world that will always and forever be his.
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