“In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest
where no-one sees you, but
sometimes I do, and
that sight becomes this art.”
― Rumi

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Overanalysis

An innocuous book for five year olds to hone their reading skills. The plot is simple enough - lion is hungry, so he catches a rabbit, but then sees a deer and runs after it, the deer proves too quick and so the lion goes back to the rabbit - and of course finds that the rabbit has escaped - and the lion goes home hungry.

End of story.

I ask my son what his thoughts are - and he says he feels sad that the lion is hungry. 'But then the cute rabbit and the deer have escaped, haven't they?' I ask, to which he says 'yes, but the lion really tried hard all day and still was hungry, which makes me sad'.

His young mind did not pick up on the undertone - don't be greedy, which is what I think the story is trying to say.

Oddly thoughI am happy he did not get that message, for it does not sit comfortably with me and I could not bring myself to tell him that the lion was wrong to chase after the deer. It somehow seems to suggest that one should just be as good as one is now and aim only for what one can be sure is within one's grasp - in other words reach for the middle shelf where the sweeties are but don't reach for the stars. All bets are off unless they are safe bets.

Of course this is probably an extreme and unfair interpretation of a five year old's reading book but I do wonder whether such little things leave lasting impressions on our psyche.

Choosing the standard beaten track has never really appealed to me - but not from any excess of moral fibre or spirit of adventure - simply because it fails to satisfy my curiosity.

'What's your plan B?' - people often ask me and I say it is simply 'refer to plan A'.
'But then don't you see that you are putting all your eggs in one basket?' they ask to which I say 'yes, but then I only have one basket to worry about.'

By this stage the majority come to the (right) conclusion that I am just an obnoxious, pretentious, know-it-all megalomaniac who refuses to see the light and move on to something more worthwhile.

So how would my admittedly skewed version of the story go?

The lion chases after the deer and fails, he goes home hungry but then comes back the next day even more determined to catch the deer, but the deer is still too quick and so the lion goes home even hungrier. This carries on with the lion getting more and more hungry and desperate. All the other lions are full of cute little bunnies they caught with ease and are laughing at the silly lion who keeps chasing the deer. 'You are too proud' they say. 'This chase will be the death of him' they whisper behind his back - 'and serves him right too, the arrogant fool!'

But the lion has seen what the others fail to notice - fear - in the eyes of the deer - for it knows this lion is hungry for more.

The next day under the unforgiving sun on the dusty plains, a roar echoes - bouncing off the rocks where the other lions are having their siesta after stuffing themselves full of bunnies - and they say, 'oh well, I think our idiot has finally caught the deer. Good for him I guess.' 

A little later the greedy, foolish lion walks up to his friends and lies down in the afternoon sun having had his first taste of deer. Just as he slips into a well deserved sleep he overhears a little lion cub whispering to his friend - 'look over there, there lies the only lion who has tasted deer.'

And a smile plays on his sleeping face.

Always go after deer my son - they do taste better - even if you only catch one a week.

And remember what a great man who dared to dream in psychedelic technicolor while others dreamt in steely grey monochrome once said:

Stay foolish, stay hungry.



Always.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Pleasantly jealous

In the middle of the night 
When time pretends to move
forward half heartedly 
He starts coughing

Like a flash I'm up
Super Dad pushing sleep away
Pretending not to care about
My precious share of reversible mortality

I kiss his slightly salty cheek
And stroke his sore tummy
His sleepy eyes flicker open
As he whispers holding my gaze
'I want mommy'

'Of course' I smile sensibly 
(traitor! I add silently)
And relinquish my privileged spot
For his gentle mother
Who looks effortlessly beautiful 
In her whispery pink fleece jumper 

As those two parts of his whole
Sleep in pleasant company
Super dad is banished 
to the other end of the bed (world)

Where he plots silently in the dark
Against this boy, this son
Who like any other 
Chooses
His mother for comfort
And his father 
For fun