"DON'T MAKE ME COME IN THERE."

I was in kindergarten when this picture was taken.  It's one of the very few of me that I like.  I wish I could be inside that child's head again, just for a moment.  I need to recall what it's like to live without the kind of soul-numbing discouragement I face every day.  I came onto G+ for my son, whose capacity for discouragement and disappointment falls far short of his mother's.  Maybe that's the metaphysical trade-off that comes with being popular and making friends easily.  Neither of these things was true of me when I was in school.  I'm still not really sure who likes me at any given moment.  That's why I figured I'd better learn to enjoy my own company a looooong time ago.  Now I'm at the point where I don't need everyone to be my friend, or to be liked all the time.  I just really, really want to be a part of something positive.  I thought helping my son get to Europe with People to People was gonna be the thing. But no.  No.  The boy is churlishly certain that he should just give up NOW and avoid the rush.  His brother came in here just now, bowed his head and asked God to PLEASE help his brother "quit whining his way to Europe!"  Made me feel somewhat better.  I told you all that I was going to ride herd on my son who makes commitments and then just abandons them.  I DO NOT RAISE QUITTERS.  He can fail all he likes, but you don't put me on this kind of mission for you and then casually indicate you can't be bothered.  He doesn't realize I'm gonna make him write a post EVERY DAY for the next month.  He damn well better improve from today's offering, believe it.

The journey between these two pictures was not an easy one. It had its share of disillusionment and disappointment.    I wanted to
join "Up With People" the year this was taken.  Some girls made sure I overheard them laughing at me while I was speaking with a member of the troupe, and I let their ridicule keep me from a life-changing adventure. "Don't let them do this," the Dutch kid said, with real feeling. They pushed harder, teased louder, and I gave up on the spot. I can still see the glow fading from his face when he realized what was happening. Why did they bother? I didn't even know them.  I can't get that opportunity back.

I had no cheerleader at home. ("Go outside with that violin. You can practice out there. Your sister can't hear the television.") I recall becoming very still.  "You really think I'm going to stand outside and practice the violin."  It wasn't a question. My mom made this little choking sound that still sounds like suppressed laughter in my memory. It's not good to see your mom smirk your dreams. It is what it is. I'm all right.  I thought this would be different. I thought what I could do now is knuckle down with Malachi and get this done for him.  I told him, "The only thing better than me getting to go to Europe is you getting to go," and I meant it.  Every time I asked that boy if he wanted to go abroad he said yes until the day before yesterday.  I want to jump on him.

I find this picture of me with the violin really hard to look at. Those loose bowstrings anger me.  Every bow on the wall in that store is strung too loosely to work properly.  Maybe it's to make you think you need lessons.  I don't like it because I'm not as young as I used to be, although I'm looking pretty good for my age.  I don't like it because that is as happy as I've been in a long, long time.  I see a bit of the sparkle in my eye, and that's good.  The joy of living has been on hiatus for me for a while now, however.  I don't see the sweet spirit that shines from the child's and the teenager's eyes anymore.  When I look at pictures of me now, all I see is someone whose eyes look tired and sad.

No matter what, I won't give up.  The next month is gonna be an ugly one around here, because I don't tolerate quitting.  Fail, get knocked down, fall apart, do what you have to, but don't quit.

Thanks for taking the time to read this blog.
#FriendsofMalachiMaxwellGlass