The only reason why I would go to this bus-forsaken place in Penrith was to get the X-Ray of the foot done. While hobbling back to the bus stop, which would have taken a normal-foot person about 10 minutes (and me thrice that time), I realised why the lack of bus stops – the whole street was full of car workshops, repair shops and petrol kiosks.
My poor feet.
Haru made the treacherous journey feel a little better, though.
Having seen and having had to teach the living and breathing products of 21st Century parents in the past few years certainly makes me agree with most of what this British nanny writes.
Coincidentally, I recently witnessed an incident which made me feel quite impressed with this modern parent.
The little girl, maybe 4-5 years old, was on a tricycle, cycling in front of her father in the crowded train station. Suddenly, because she was looking down and not in front of her, she suddenly finds herself confronted by a huge pillar. She freezes in her tracks just before she bangs into the pillar, and instinctively looks to her father. The guy looks back down at her, and gestures his arms in an exaggerated “I don’t know what to do either!” shrug. The girl pauses for a second more before figuring it out. She retraces her steps, pedaling backwards, then pedaling forward again, this time steering slightly to the left to avoid the pillar.
By not stooping down to change the direction of his daughter’s tricycle for her, by pretending that he didn’t know what to do, the dad gave her a wonderful opportunity to solve her own problem, build her resilience and learn from her earlier mistake.
In another country and culture, I can imagine the parent bending over immediately to help their child out of the fix. Some might even start scolding their children for having allowed themselves to end up in that situation in the first place.
If life is a book, then every experience can be a lesson. Trying to prevent children from making mistakes will deprive them of half the learning they could have had. Now why can’t we have more parents… and *ahem* educational systems… understand this?
Must it be that the more crowded, well-known and “successful” a place is, the more disappointing their benchmark quality becomes?
A welcomed rest stop after a trip to the doctor’s, and confirming that there’s no fracture – it’s “probably the ligament”.
I hope that’s good news.
I first read about Brian Little in Susan Cain’s “Quiet“. Watching and listening to him speak, I can understand why his graduating classes at Harvard consistently vote him as “Favourite Professor”, year after year. He alludes his ability to act as an extrovert to the fact that he loves his students, he loves what he teaches and he is passionate about sharing his knowledge in his area of expertise. Typical introvert behavior, getting all pumped up when doing something of personal meaning and value. He might very well be an INFJ as well.
I will never forget the conversation I once had with a student who expressed immense surprise and disbelief when I told her I am not, by nature, outgoing or outspoken. I always knew I was acting out of character as a teacher, but her shock at my confession made me realize how convincing my persona might have been – and maybe that’s why I found myself living from weekend to weekend, only looking forward to the time of respite, when I could shed all efforts at existing and simply… be. I could totally feel Brian Little’s agony as he described trying to find a “restorative niche” after social events and people-meeting.
May this world be a kinder place to our species…
Maybe the period between winter and spring should be called… Springter.
And it will be known as the perfect season.
When the sun is shining but it’s not too warm, when the wind is blowing but it’s not too cold, when the clouds appear leisurely and you can decide to pack your lunch, sit outside your house and enjoy your meal watching the sky go by.