Thanks, Mom…I Think….

Today is Mother’s Day here in the U.S., and as I like to think and write about originality and creativity I thought I’d look at the source. (Or at least one of them!)

People seem to have tortured relationships with their Moms.  But one thing is for certain – on the day you were hatched, you were the newest, most up to date model of humanity there was.  Even though you looked like Elmer Fudd in a blanket and had a worse disposition, Mom probably showed you around to everyone who told her how cute  and unique you were, because that’s what she wanted to hear!

As you grew up and started to learn and flex your powers as This Thing Called You, Mom was probably there to make sure you survived your explorations into your strange new surroundings.  And as you grew older, you realized that that other than you and Mom, nobody else thought you were that special.  They did their best to make you be just like them.

So you uncovered the basic Paradox Of Life.  To try and express this unique experience that is You in a world that was trying to make you just like Them.  And for the really tough decisions, even Mom wasn’t able to help out.  Do you fight or flee?  Do you speak up or keep quiet?  Stand  your ground or join the mob?

Building a life is like a large construction project.  Many people are involved, some you are aware of and some you aren’t.  There are problems and change orders all along the way.  But the blueprints are stamped by Mom the architect, so no matter how it turns out, she’ll probably think it is pretty cool, since it was her idea in the first place!


3 thoughts on “Thanks, Mom…I Think….

  1. Hey fool, it’s a rough job being a mom. I had six kids. One died when he was ten of brain cancer. I love dropping the C bomb or even the D bomb. His death greatly affected me, my life and the lives of his siblings. My mom was a wretched mother who felt no love for me at all. She even told my brother I was unloveable. Sagittarius girl children are tough to take and to top it off I have the mean streal straight from my father who was a colonel in the Marine Corps. But she made me who I am and I struggled to save my children from myself and my life. You kids are all along for your parent’s ride. That’s the kicker. My kids all came out good and different. Thanks for the tribute to moms. I did my best. janet

  2. My mother never thought of me as special. I thought I was stupid until I grew up. So it depends on the mom. But you’re right about the blueprints we endure forever stamped by the master architect, be it nature or nurture (or lack of). I sense my mother behind many of my beliefs, some good, some bad. My hatred of waste comes from her, but other characteristics are not useful and are in fact detrimental.

    But I sense your mother did a fine job with you!

    • Thanks for the compliment, Deb. I know a lot of mothers didn’t have a storybook upbringing themselves, so the lineage of pain gets passed on down the line. I guess the best we can do is to weed out the negative (when we recognize it) and be thankful for whatever is positive or helpful.

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