Being a parent isn’t a negative thing, I feel. There are tons of biological, psychological and social benefits of having an offspring and of raising her. There’s sense of responsibility, sense of joy, pride, achievement and also curiosity, initiative and creativity a child gifts to a parent. Caring someone without any expectation is the most wonderful thing in the universe… but it becomes troublesome when care mutates to worry, and tons of expectations take birth. It’s nothing less than horrible to worry about the future of creatures who by no way simulate the parents, or who don’t listen to them or refuse to act as extensions of the parents. Kids are different than their parents and they grow to be yet more different adults; though not always they’re bad, I get a shivering sensation when I imagine myself fifty plus or something and having a daughter who’s like how I am now.
It’s natural for the parents to crave for the safety and success of their kids and anything unusual, eccentric, or adventurous is ‘less safe’ or riskier than what is traditional, conventional or routine behavior (no matter however mundane it is for the kid). Worry takes birth in mind of a parent when their kid’s ‘safety’ comes to question; and the worried mind can’t understand that safety isn’t ‘everything’ in life of any person. We can’t shoot for any goal unless we take at least some risk. The more we take the risk, more are the chances to achieve or to lose something; and it’s not like that we always have to lose something. We’re humans, not machines programmed to achieve success or to do tasks incapable of captivating our minds. Goals matter to us, so do dreams. We become restless, and it’s a fact that we can’t enjoy anything until we ‘get’ that thing. There are passions we can even die for and there are attractions transforming us into miserable iron particles dancing to reach to that merciless source of magnetic force. There are addictions, some habits we go on craving for even when we get hit on our face in trying to quench that thirst.
Of course, I’m not speaking about addictive drugs, or habitual wrong behaviors; but alas, behaviors those are not routine even though they’re good are also considered as ‘wrong’. Neither I’m saying that following our mind is always rewarding, or blessing us with positive outcome… there are hitches, negativities, frustrations, depression, tons of loneliness, and pools of tears when something goes wrong, when we lose something or when we fail or fall. But one failure doesn’t imply that we’ll fail always. Losses are not permanent; though they’re painful sometimes they act as essential keys to open the doors to success. But alas, the worried mind looks to such sentences as ‘bookish unpractical statements’; it ignores the fact that books are nothing other than written or typewritten experiences or thoughts of some living human beings. Of course it’s very hard to convince this to my worried parents… still I know that they don’t hate me; it’s obvious that they want all the things to be positive in my life. I can feel the heart of them, and I’m not having any prefrontal lobe lesion to accept useless and harmful risks (though it’s a fact that risks bless us with the ‘high’ of adrenalin rush). But even after thinking a lot over it, I find some risks are worth to be taken… some dreams are worth sacrificing the ‘safety’ and even ‘whole of the life’.
But truly (don’t tell this to my parents) sometimes I feel relaxed that I’m not a parent of a kid like that of me…