The next memory to surface from long ago sees me stepping out of the shower, reaching for a towel when my youngest son, David, a kindergartener, runs into my bathroom—and suddenly, eyes bugging out in surprise, his voice, conveying a dismayed sense of alarm, exclaims: Mommy! Where's your penis????
While wrapping myself in a fluffy blue towel I’d felt mighty surprised at having to reassure my five year old that nothing was amiss—David, did you forget that only boys are born with penises? Since Mommy is a girl, I’m not supposed to have one.
As modesty had not been an issue in our family, I, feeling perplexed, chose to go with the moment at hand by offering my son a simple explanation concerning female anatomy only to see that David’s furrowed brow continued to convey wheels spinning in dismay until, all of a sudden, a huge, cheek splitting grin covered his face as his eyes, sparkling like spotlights, invited my brain to ready itself to gain insight into the creative center of my son’s sweet natured soul as his spirit, now fully animated, welcomed my sense of clarity to consider HIS version of reality by offering my processor an idea so innovative in nature as to have NEVER been thought of before , and as his grinning lips parted to speak, my son’s highly imaginative think tank released a magical train of thought illuminating the depths of a child’s heartfelt connection to innocence, which had not yet experienced sound reason to grow ever more fully aware of reality beckoning to his growing need to unlace imaginative speculation from fact-based information—and thus are you and I about to witness David’s five year old brain conjuring up a simple solution to that which his processor had ‘seen’ as a problem in need of resolution so that I would match everyone else in our family: Don't worry, Mommy! I'll tell Daddy to get you a penis for your birthday!!
Once this solution popped out of David’s processor, which still believed that Superman could fly; the tooth fairy left money under pillows in the dark of night—and mommies and daddies were empowered to make every boo-boo feel better with a kiss and a band aid (which was seen as necessary to healing regardless of the fact that skin remained intact), my lively burst of laughter could not be restrained—though to my credit—my lapse in self discipline was short lived based in my intuitive capacity to ‘see’ wheels still turning inside David’s churning think tank thus alerting my think tank to spotlight this next string of insights: Certain beliefs, which being childlike in nature, make mincemeat of common sense, and thus do we call forth the patience to sense when a think tank ‘seen’ to be in need of reassessment at a later date, may have developed the readiness to expand that individual’s capacity to embrace reality with clarity upon being gently encouraged to reconsider the entirety of a belief system which proves to be based in imaginative trains of thought that have little to do with fact-based common sense.
In short, David’s processor (at five) had not yet experienced personal need to develop so much as a clue of the fact that insight-laden solutions rely upon the ongoing development of depth perception. which is empowered by much more than personal experience. Depth perception is enhanced by attending lectures, reading classics, and delving into a wide range of knowledge so as to engage in conversations (concerning confounding complexities that arise throughout each stage of life) with an open mind that has come to set a high value upon consciously deepening objectivity.
It’s important to note that many of life’s complexities (inclusive of matters of the heart) are exacerbated by human nature’s irrational outbursts of emotional reactiveness, which prove limbic in nature (please google it). In fact, a person’s capacity to embrace positively focused attitudinal changes based in a heightened sense of depth perception, which empowers our processors to become ever more self aware, is the direct opposite of a processor that’s so steeped in limbic defensiveness as to maintain a closed minded narrow point of view regardless of how many facts refute a belief system that defies common sense.
As history suggests, guiding my five year old’s brain to grasp an ever deepening need to reprocess knowledge that proves so complex as to have been naturally absorbed in a half baked manner proves easy peasy when compared to world wide need to remodel adult belief systems so steeped in impassioned emotionality as to defy logical reasoning for thousands of years. And as the same insight-laden spotlight, referenced throughout this train of thought, serves to highlight the immature workings of trump’s dysfunctional thought processor, I feel self empowered to ask yet again—how can it be possible that we continue to free a petulant two year old, who needs to suck up to hard hearted dictators while unsuccessfully trying to pacify his own outbursts of temper by tweeting like an immature (thumb) sucker on social media, while consistently demonstrating a wholly undeveloped regard for mutual respect from his highchair in the Oval Office, feeling free of being legally disposed of by the powers that be, who, day in and day out, prove every bit as dysfunctional as is true of the megalomaniac known throughout the world as da present-day gangster-like ‘DON’ (ald). Badaboom! (Whoops! Sorry! My fully rational sense of frustrated emotionality almost ran away with my processor’s capacity to track one train of thought to completion. So where were we? Oh yes ...
That evening at bedtime, Winnie the Pooh remained on the shelf. Instead, five year old David and I spent our private, one-on-one time enjoying another picture book, titled WHERE DID I COME FROM in which simple explanations accompany funny cartoons that tickle the inquisitive minds of small fry to the point that for weeks to come, I was forever offering David sound reasons why the parents of his classmates’ might have believed it inappropriate to take 'THE NAKED BOOK' (as my child referred to this creative gem) to school for ‘show and tell’.
When David’s teacher informed me that my five year old was eagerly edifying every child within earshot about 'the birds and bees', David and I continued to engage in private discussions about comfort levels, which differ from one home to another, and needless to say, that reality perplexed David’s naturally relaxed attitude concerning birds, bees and human reproduction, as well. And so, in addition to processing lessons in human anatomy’s role in baby making, my child’s astute awareness began to absorb the fact that certain conversations were fine for public consumption while others proved privileged, personal and private.
Little by little, David’s intelligent mind continued to grow toward developing an ever deepening awareness of personal need to differentiate one kind of conversation from another as being imperative to that which is widely considered ‘acceptable’ social grooming as defined by our culture’s current value system, which, like every aspect of life, remains classically in a state of flux being that the only constant is change.
And now that we’ve feasted upon reasons why children’s thought processors have need to remain under parental wing for at least eighteen years in hopes that the highly complex nature of tutelage concerning human interaction will grow to become ever more functional than dysfunctional, day by day, week by week, year by year.
(BTW, since my trains of thought (though factual in nature) tend to become much too complex for my processor to clarify in one fell swoop of my pen, I plan to simplify FIRST KISS Part 8—ASAP). And with that intention simply stated, my think tank, though chuckling over today’s recollections, is begging for a much needed rest.
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