Sunday, December 05, 2004

Control, intermittent loss and recovery of

1. Whenever I had a temper tantrum (when I was 3 years old they weren't called "meltdowns"), my mother would send me to my room with an angry directive: "Stay there until you can control yourself." I knew I was being sent to my room as a punishment, but I had no idea what to do to control myself. I'm still learning how, as exemplified in items 2. and 3. below.

2. When I was about 12, my brothers were away at college, so my father took me on his day-trip fishing expeditions instead. We used to go on a "party boat" (which had as much to do with a party as a telephone party line had: both were shared with strangers), out in the Great South Bay of Long Island. I enjoyed the briney smells, the water, the rocking boat, and was not squeamish about baiting the hooks. But the revelation, and it really astonished me, was having to do nothing but remain alert to tugs on the line, for hours at a time. [If there were not enough tugs on the line, we would head out for the ocean and my Dad would get seasick, but that's not germane to the topic of this post.]

3. While I was in my early stages of klita (the unending process of absorption into Israeli culture), a Wise Person gave me some (paid) advice: "go up to Netanya and do some para-sailing or hang-gliding." WP wanted me to get used to the idea of partnering with forces beyond my control [which seem to be growing as I get older], and to learn to consider it fun, even beautiful, especially when you notice the scenery. I didn't actually go to Netanya for that purpose, but the image and the metaphor stay with me.

2 comments:

The Lioness said...

So it gets worse is what you're saying... Ahhh, where's my medi-tape? Oh right, I don't have one. I'm so dead...

Savtadotty said...

It gets worse, but you have to get stronger (and more flexible) because YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO GIVE UP!