Failure as a parent

Failure as a parent - contd.

Following up on yesterday's post, I detected that my child falls in the "highly sensitive" category.

I will share more details of what it means to me and how I will tackle it. But more importantly. it feels that I have passed it on to him.

This could be a lifelong issue with my life partner and me. She accuses me of being responsible.

I understand it can be my fault. But did I have a choice? Or did I inherit from my parents (probably my mother?).

Anyway, that's not the root point of the discussion. Whatever it is, I need to face it and figure out a solution.

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Challenges

Now, I have a challenge. I wouldn't call it tough. It is time-bound. Creating utopia is a both man's and woman's dream. The only difference is, the man starts thinking about the implying imperfections despite the fact that he, too is willing to give in his best for the perfect world. The woman, on the other hand, lives in the present tense and is constantly irritated by the alleged foresight of man. Whether this may or may not lead to a disruption, that only time can tell. But for man, there is nothing important than a woman who understands his dream and pushes him to go further and further. Such are relationships, and to give them a worldly name would be unjust. It's weird. The man, in constant effort of finishing the challenge, tries hard and hard and hard. Soon, the fear of failure creeps in. But what is he afraid of? Is he afraid of failure? Why would he be? Because he hurt his ego? Or because he lost? The reason of the fear cannot be known until the outcome of the ...

The Guest from Deep Inside.

Sunrise. Birds chirp. Trees exhale oxygen. Suddenly I hear a scream. I woman was pointing at the ground. "A snake! A snake!", she frantically cried. It wasn't a snake. Snakes have removable foreskin. This creature was way too slimy and slippery to be a snake. I know what it was. It was an earthworm; disoriented earthworm. It dragged itself on the dry floor, leaving behind marks of its wet body. Someone said, "Kill it!". I didn't. I just waited until it coiled itself, and inserted a piece of paper beneath it. It was trying to escape off from the other side. A chill passed by my heart. I held the paper with shaky hands, and carried it away with the worm on it. I threw it in the bushes nearby and bid him good day. "It will come again!", my mother said. "Not on the dry land, mom, not again... ", I smirked. Things digging themselves out of deep-within can't panic me.

Why blog?

Mark Twain said, "I can live without food for [n] days, but I can't live a single day without praise." He lost lost wife and three daughters in a very short term. He was then alone. In loneliness, he wrote the darkest of his works, "The Mysterious Stranger" (unfinished). One of the quotes from it is: " In a little while you will be alone in shoreless space, to wander its limitless solitudes without friend or comrade forever--for you will remain a thought, the only existent thought, and by your nature inextinguishable, indestructible. But I, your poor servant, have revealed you to yourself and set you free. Dream other dreams, and better!...You perceive, now, that these things are all impossible except in a dream. You perceive that they are pure and puerile insanities, the silly creations of an imagination that is not conscious of its freaks - in a word, that they are a dream, and you the maker of it. The dream-marks are all present; you should have recogniz...

A Bit of the Real

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