Tragicomedy

“This world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel…”

 –Horace Walpole

I have come to the realization that my son has inherited my hyper sensitive nature. Well, actually I realized this a long time ago, but I have finally come to terms with it. I had hoped perhaps the sensitivity was a part of childhood, some phase he would go through and be done with eventually. But alas, he is as sensitive as the day is long.

Like me, he is saddened when we watch movies and someone is mean to another person and hurts them deeply, or if someone or something dies (yes, even animals or animated objects). Sometimes, he even cries, but don’t tell him I told you.

Once, we were watching a nature show, and after watching a predator catch his dinner, my son said, “I wish no animals had to die ever.” This morning I was cleaning the floor and a spider caught me unawares and I screamed “Spider!” My son then shouted at me not to kill it.

I remember he once said something that broke my heart and I began to cry. I told him it was the meanest thing he ever said to me. Then he began sobbing and apologized for being mean. He really hates to be scolded, even by other adults. It makes him so sad.

He is also sensitive about what other people say to him, especially if they are being mean or making fun of him or just teasing him. He gets his feelings hurt so easily.

Unfortunately, he is also very, very competitive and when it comes to sports, he will cry if he loses a game, even to his father. We keep reminding him the point is to have fun, not be the best at everything, but he still has a difficult time controlling his emotions.

I admit I worry that my son’s sensitivity will cause him to suffer considerable pain in his lifetime. A sensitive person myself, I dealt with a lot of heartbreak and sadness, and I don’t want my son to hurt the way I have. Life is not easy. It is full of disappointment and loss. In other words, life is a tragedy, especially to those who feel too much.

That being said, however, I can’t imagine not feeling all the things I’ve felt in my lifetime. If I had it to do over, I would gladly have my heart broken just to feel the exhilaration of infatuation or the fullness of love. I would embrace the pain of criticism to appreciate the joy of acceptance. I would mourn losses to celebrate who and what I have.

Feeling is a part of being alive. And I want my son to be completely alive.

I also want him to realize that life is a comedy, too. That sometimes, you have to laugh at yourself, at the world, at the incongruities of life. I want my son to laugh so hard he cries and fights for breath. I want him to have a sense of humor that will get him through some of those trying times.

Thinking is a part of being alive, too. And I want my son to think just as much as he feels. I want him to continue being curious about everything. I want him to ponder the greatest questions in life. I want him to read and learn as much as he can. And perhaps this will allow him to see the sun through the clouds.

In the end, I shouldn’t worry that my son feels and thinks as much as he does. He is loving and empathetic and sensitive of other’s feelings. He asks me questions that I often can’t answer. He is witty and clever. And I love him for all that he is.

My son wrote a poem once for a class assignment. I leave you with his words and reminder to have open hearts and open minds and think and feel as much as you can.

 “I feel sorry for mean people because they have small hearts…”

Bookwormholes

You all know by now that I love movies and music. As I have said before, I appreciate all artistic endeavors, and that includes writing. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE books! If there were such an occupation as professional reader, that would be my title. I can’t get enough of books. And I like all types: fiction, non-fiction, poetry. You name it, I’ll read it. Often times, I have a stack of books on my nightstand that I’m reading, switching from one to another depending on my mood.

I just finished the book Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. I should say I devoured it for I could not put it down! I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it only because I was hesitant to read it. It was suggested by a dear friend of mine but the way she spoke of it led me to believe it was about a hot and heavy love affair. And while it was about a hot and heavy love affair, it wasn’t only about a hot and heavy love affair. There was time travel and intrigue. There were kidnappings and daring rescues. There was magic and mystery. And the love affair wasn’t the stuff of sappy romance novels. The chemistry was palpable. I found myself blushing while reading!

I could go on and on about this book, but I don’t write book reviews. Suffice to say that I recommend you read this book. You may find yourself hooked as well. And like me, you may find yourself dying to get ahold of the next book in the series.

What I really wanted to talk about was the power of books. Like movies and even music, books can transport you to another time and/or place. They can yank you out of your own little world and drop you into another. It’s almost like time traveling minus the wormhole. And Outlander was about time travel, so I was really transported!

I have always wished I could time travel. I’m not interested in the future so much as the past. History was always one of my favorite subjects in school, and the books we read for class just didn’t have quite enough information for me. I am so curious about everything, the more I learn, the more I want to know. Perhaps I am alone in this, but wouldn’t it be absolutely amazing to go back in time and watch a dinosaur battle? Or find out exactly how the Egyptians build the pyramids? Wouldn’t you want to have a conversation with some of the most famous historical figures, really find out who they are? I could spend an hour or two with Van Gogh or Edgar Allen Poe or Joan of Arc.

Many believe that we read or watch movies to get away from our own reality for a little while. I would tend to agree. I know sometimes I feel like escaping the mundane tasks of the modern world where every day is not a life or death struggle. Sometimes I don’t want to think about the mortgage or the pile of laundry or my homework assignment. Sometimes I want to find myself deep in mysteries and battles and love triangles. And sometimes, it is just a way for me to escape my own often intense thoughts and emotions.

But I also think that reading opens up my mind and my world. So, rather than ‘escaping’, it’s almost as though I become connected to the universe, as though it reveals itself to me, and it’s like the sun rising over a dark valley. Suddenly, I begin to see things in a different light. I see how everything and everyone in this world is tied together.  I also begin to see myself in a different light. Sometimes, reading other’s thoughts and emotions gives me insight into my own. I can share in love and joy or anger and sorrow. I read about other humans at their best and at their worst and I think about my own actions. It’s almost as though a book can act as a mirror and show you what you did not see before.

Again, I could go on and on but this is a blog, not a dissertation. I know I jumped around a bit and my flair for the dramatic may be a bit exhausting, but I guess what I really want to say is that reading is learning, and learning is a beautiful thing.