Old tapes..

  I never have been able to take a compliment.  If you say a bookshelf I built is beautiful, I will point out the hidden gaps underneath or bring out a level to show the imperfections. If I cook a meal that comes out well, you will probably hear me say what I should have done to make it better. It usually appears like modesty, sometimes self depreciation, but what it actually is ninety nine percent of the time is just plain old insecurity.

        This drives me crazy in other people and the people that I love; when they criticize themselves or co-sign the garbage someone else put in their heads decades ago.

              I wonder why these old tapes ( would it be c.d.s now or mp3s? I am so far out of the current technical music storage trends that I cannot intelligently say ) have so much power over us?

      It's funny. A long time ago I spent large chunks of my time trying to change my reactions to people, to situations, especially the ones involving family. It should be easy, right? Right? No matter how often I have asked this question, no one has ever agreed it would be easy.

        I asked once, why it was so difficult, especially with family? Why can they press our buttons so well?  

                 I was told it was because they were the ones who installed them..

             It popped into my little rattled brain that I am an electrician. I understand switches, buttons and wires. Maybe it wouldn't really be that difficult after all..

               So, metaphorically, I re-wired. In time, my external reactions changed and dealing with the old family of origin became much better and sometimes even enjoyable.

              I then realized that although my reactions had changed, the old voices, tapes, CDs or mp3s would always keep playing. I could install volume control ( to an extent ) and maybe a pause button, but for the most part, they would keep going in an endless, eternal loop.

            So in the end, you just make friends with the old phrases that parents repeated and gently remind them that although they have acquired real estate in your brain and are currently unevictable, they are not correct. You learn to live with the ghosts..

               I think we all have these whispering specters gliding thru our thoughts, sometimes hibernating for a season. Ignored, they become louder. Acknowledged, they go back to sleep..

         I realize now that words are an uneraseable power and as a father, these words that will be eternal in my children's minds will often come from me. 

                Perhaps we can fill our children's tapes or mp3s with something better. Perhaps, just maybe they will hear an affirmation or two somewhere in their endless loop?

                  I tell my children at least half a dozen times a day that I love them. I leave them notes when I go to work in the morning, just in case...

     I'm sure they will be haunted a bit by some of my parental bellowing, but I hope also along with that dribble is the voice, the words of love and encouragement. I hope they remember the sounds of the general excitement I have just because they are my children.