We have the responsibility to give our children only two things in our lifetime – the roots and the wings and, as some may now or some may eventually find out, the hardest part is never the wings. The roots are there to bring us back to where we came from, but the wings will take us places where we can become someone else. Someone our own parents might not even approve of, but someone that we feel the most comfortable being.
The person I am on the surface is the person I want to be or look like. I like straight hair so I make sure I keep my hair straightener ready in case I need to take care of some unruly locks. I like hip hop, so I blast it in my car and roll my windows down as I drive and look over, as I stop at a red light, to a driver next to me to see his or her reaction. I like animals so I volunteer at an animal shelter every Sunday, even though I am incredibly allergic to all canines and felines. I am my own person, built according to my own liking.
But from time to time, I can’t help but make seemingly irrational, self-destructive decisions that bring me back to the time where I had no wings to spread, only my roots to anchor myself into the ground. Do I dare to blame my parents for my transgressions? Or is it my perfectly average upbringing that is getting in my own way? Do I dare to say that I have the right to blame anyone for my flaws of character and momentary lapses in judgment?
This uncertain grip on reality provides us with a fine line to walk – when we are feeling proud of ourselves, it is all due to our own achievements; but when we discover the dark, dirty crevices of our own psyches that we don’t want to confront in the daylight, well, it is due to the exquisitely covered issues that stem from our roots. Can we ever come to terms with who we are and who we want to be, on our own terms, without ever explicitly blaming anyone for our own shortcomings?
The answer may be as complicated as we are. The wings we have earned are our own. But these wings we have earned are a result of the roots we have been given. The past is always and forever will be just as important as the present and it is our responsibility to reconcile the two.
The person I am on the surface is the person I want to be or look like. I like straight hair so I make sure I keep my hair straightener ready in case I need to take care of some unruly locks. I like hip hop, so I blast it in my car and roll my windows down as I drive and look over, as I stop at a red light, to a driver next to me to see his or her reaction. I like animals so I volunteer at an animal shelter every Sunday, even though I am incredibly allergic to all canines and felines. I am my own person, built according to my own liking.
But from time to time, I can’t help but make seemingly irrational, self-destructive decisions that bring me back to the time where I had no wings to spread, only my roots to anchor myself into the ground. Do I dare to blame my parents for my transgressions? Or is it my perfectly average upbringing that is getting in my own way? Do I dare to say that I have the right to blame anyone for my flaws of character and momentary lapses in judgment?
This uncertain grip on reality provides us with a fine line to walk – when we are feeling proud of ourselves, it is all due to our own achievements; but when we discover the dark, dirty crevices of our own psyches that we don’t want to confront in the daylight, well, it is due to the exquisitely covered issues that stem from our roots. Can we ever come to terms with who we are and who we want to be, on our own terms, without ever explicitly blaming anyone for our own shortcomings?
The answer may be as complicated as we are. The wings we have earned are our own. But these wings we have earned are a result of the roots we have been given. The past is always and forever will be just as important as the present and it is our responsibility to reconcile the two.
"Design Delirious"
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