When I was quite young I had an Uncle that called me the professor. This name didn't stick with me long and was more of an exclusive thing to that Uncle. My memory of it is vague. I do not know his reason for calling me the professor but I just figured it was because I wore glasses. Other than my sister, no one in my family wore glasses. As we all know glasses are associated with the nerdy, brainy types. I wasn't as physical as my brothers and enjoyed reading. I guess that is why that moniker. I didn't mind it at all and secretly thought, you are correct. The thing is, that " professor " image didn't fly well down to three mile harbor ! We are all born into an environment and must adapt to it. Or should I say, most of us adapt to the environment and just blend in. Others, call them strong willed or just unaware, do not, and become the subject of ridicule. These days we call it bullying.
Growing up I spent quite a bit of my time emulating my father. That was a natural and normal thing as he was the example, the standard bearer. I learned a lot from him about all manner of trades. He was a man that could build anything and was very good at it. He was also " old school ' in many ways. His word was law and there was no debate. Weakness was not tolerated. Complaining was a weakness, so don't do it unless you are willing to be subjected to ridicule. He was quite a stoic man. Unflappable you might say. He lived entirely in the real world, although I suspected he dreamed big dreams. My biggest regret is that I never got to know him as a man. That is to say, on equal footing. But all of that was many years ago, Dad passed away twenty five years ago.
What I was thinking about, that brought all this to mind, was a simple phrase a friend said to me. She said she was missing the sound of the sea and the salt water. Memories of my youth flooded my mind. You see, three mile harbor, and that whole lifestyle, circles around the sea and salt water. More properly the bay but let's not nit pick. Fishing was a way of life. The bounty of the bay sustained many in my family, although Dad didn't work the water exclusively. The bay was his safety net however and he would turn to it when times were hard. When the weather turned cold and seasonal work became scarce, he would get out the dredges. Down to the bay we went and dredged up some money ! All these years later all that remains is an image. An image of a lifestyle and a place that no longer exists. I was a part of that image. I was a part of it by birth, not by choice. That I loved it I wouldn't deny, but I wonder. What if I hadn't been subject to the pressure of fitting into that society, and that is just what it was. There were expectations to be met. There was plenty of encouragement, just not in the areas I had an interest in. Let's just say philosophy wasn't a hot topic down to the harbor. It was demanded of me that I get that high school diploma but anything further than that was not necessary. The truth is, those " college " boys were not held in high regard in certain quarters. I lived in those quarters !
We are all products of our environments. I am what I am because of what I was. That can't be denied or changed. There are those of us that cling to an image. The reasons for doing so are many. An image projects certain conceptions about the person. They may, or may not be true of the individual, but will be true for the majority of those in that society. Riding on the coattails is a way of expressing that thought. By doing so one doesn't have to prove oneself. You only need show the legitimacy of inclusion into that society. This could be by birth or just by joining in. I could buy a motorcycle, leather vest and grow long hair. Riding down the road your perception would be, he's a biker. Further thought might include, he's dangerous. That is the image, is it not ?
This has lead me to question, what image do I project ? More importantly is the image I project in keeping with who I really am ? Am I honest with myself ? Now that is a lengthy discussion. Can we really decide upon an image ? I think that we can, on the surface anyway. Our choice of clothes and the opinions we choose to express publicly can certainly create that. Is it sustainable ? I don't think so. I think that happiness, in our life, depends upon being who we are. It is this acceptance of ourselves that is the path to happiness. It is our choices that make our image however. So do we choose an image and adapt to that image or do we adapt our choices to fit the image ? Make the right choices and this is not a concern. The image is self forming. The influences of others can alter your choices. The thing is there are good influences and bad. Knowing the difference is the real challenge.
My major influence was my father. He was a man that was sure of himself and sure of his choices. That is the image I have of him. That is my reality. As I said earlier I never got to know him as an equal. I wonder if that image would have changed had I gotten to know him in that fashion ? When I last saw him, in his hospital bed, he told me he wouldn't see me again. He stated that with the conviction that he always had. It was a matter of fact to him. Yes, I saw some regret in his eyes and his handshake was extra firm, but he remained unwavering. Now, as I age I just have more questions.
I do not have that conviction. I can not cling to an image. I'm not that man. Just who am I ? I am whoever I choose to be is the answer. It is all in the choices we make. Individuals make the society, society does not make the individual. Or does it ?
Growing up I spent quite a bit of my time emulating my father. That was a natural and normal thing as he was the example, the standard bearer. I learned a lot from him about all manner of trades. He was a man that could build anything and was very good at it. He was also " old school ' in many ways. His word was law and there was no debate. Weakness was not tolerated. Complaining was a weakness, so don't do it unless you are willing to be subjected to ridicule. He was quite a stoic man. Unflappable you might say. He lived entirely in the real world, although I suspected he dreamed big dreams. My biggest regret is that I never got to know him as a man. That is to say, on equal footing. But all of that was many years ago, Dad passed away twenty five years ago.
What I was thinking about, that brought all this to mind, was a simple phrase a friend said to me. She said she was missing the sound of the sea and the salt water. Memories of my youth flooded my mind. You see, three mile harbor, and that whole lifestyle, circles around the sea and salt water. More properly the bay but let's not nit pick. Fishing was a way of life. The bounty of the bay sustained many in my family, although Dad didn't work the water exclusively. The bay was his safety net however and he would turn to it when times were hard. When the weather turned cold and seasonal work became scarce, he would get out the dredges. Down to the bay we went and dredged up some money ! All these years later all that remains is an image. An image of a lifestyle and a place that no longer exists. I was a part of that image. I was a part of it by birth, not by choice. That I loved it I wouldn't deny, but I wonder. What if I hadn't been subject to the pressure of fitting into that society, and that is just what it was. There were expectations to be met. There was plenty of encouragement, just not in the areas I had an interest in. Let's just say philosophy wasn't a hot topic down to the harbor. It was demanded of me that I get that high school diploma but anything further than that was not necessary. The truth is, those " college " boys were not held in high regard in certain quarters. I lived in those quarters !
We are all products of our environments. I am what I am because of what I was. That can't be denied or changed. There are those of us that cling to an image. The reasons for doing so are many. An image projects certain conceptions about the person. They may, or may not be true of the individual, but will be true for the majority of those in that society. Riding on the coattails is a way of expressing that thought. By doing so one doesn't have to prove oneself. You only need show the legitimacy of inclusion into that society. This could be by birth or just by joining in. I could buy a motorcycle, leather vest and grow long hair. Riding down the road your perception would be, he's a biker. Further thought might include, he's dangerous. That is the image, is it not ?
This has lead me to question, what image do I project ? More importantly is the image I project in keeping with who I really am ? Am I honest with myself ? Now that is a lengthy discussion. Can we really decide upon an image ? I think that we can, on the surface anyway. Our choice of clothes and the opinions we choose to express publicly can certainly create that. Is it sustainable ? I don't think so. I think that happiness, in our life, depends upon being who we are. It is this acceptance of ourselves that is the path to happiness. It is our choices that make our image however. So do we choose an image and adapt to that image or do we adapt our choices to fit the image ? Make the right choices and this is not a concern. The image is self forming. The influences of others can alter your choices. The thing is there are good influences and bad. Knowing the difference is the real challenge.
My major influence was my father. He was a man that was sure of himself and sure of his choices. That is the image I have of him. That is my reality. As I said earlier I never got to know him as an equal. I wonder if that image would have changed had I gotten to know him in that fashion ? When I last saw him, in his hospital bed, he told me he wouldn't see me again. He stated that with the conviction that he always had. It was a matter of fact to him. Yes, I saw some regret in his eyes and his handshake was extra firm, but he remained unwavering. Now, as I age I just have more questions.
I do not have that conviction. I can not cling to an image. I'm not that man. Just who am I ? I am whoever I choose to be is the answer. It is all in the choices we make. Individuals make the society, society does not make the individual. Or does it ?
No comments:
Post a Comment