Black dot and Friend (spot)
This is a retelling of shared thoughts from my godfather when I was in my schooling period.
I have told this story many times, so I guess over the years I added something from myself, but I have never thought about it yet and Why did he actually tell it to me?
Today I thought a little bit and I think from now on, to share it with another add-on.
I start backwards:
Addition: Parents are always worried about their children. Very often they are even obsessed with their attempts to control them. This is an interesting and endless topic in which everyone can say something and leave it for another time.
About attempts to guide, advise and control - friends and friendships are some of the sites undergoing the most serious "shotgun" ... Why? Perhaps we are all afraid of too much of the outside environment for us and the child or we have been able to see something thanks to our greater life experience.
In other words, we find many disadvantages in the children's friends, we do not approve of their connections, we criticize ...
Are we right, let our thoughts out loud, whether we can afford to intervene and how to do it?
These are all issues we face sooner or later. In general, it is too late for our children ... We have had our own selfish and perhaps incorrect interventions, besides, it is too difficult to do right when you are one of the affected parties in the problem. Being a parent is a "problem" and you are always inside it. That's how your conscience begins to struggle, and in wanting to make mistakes, it makes the pedagogical thing in you when you're a grandfather or a grandmother.
In my case - my godfather.
The story: There are no perfect people, each of us has some flaw, something we do not like.
If we imagine that a person is a white canvas - somewhere on it there is a black speck, a little black dipstick, some imperfection, some of its flaws. If we look at it and continue to do it, and look, and explore, and again ... and again. The little black speck starts to grow, begins to conquer the white and relatively perfect figure - it's gone, but there's only one big black spot.
In the end, nothing remains of our "friend" and "friendship".
I have told this story many times, so I guess over the years I added something from myself, but I have never thought about it yet and Why did he actually tell it to me?
Today I thought a little bit and I think from now on, to share it with another add-on.
I start backwards:
Addition: Parents are always worried about their children. Very often they are even obsessed with their attempts to control them. This is an interesting and endless topic in which everyone can say something and leave it for another time.
About attempts to guide, advise and control - friends and friendships are some of the sites undergoing the most serious "shotgun" ... Why? Perhaps we are all afraid of too much of the outside environment for us and the child or we have been able to see something thanks to our greater life experience.
In other words, we find many disadvantages in the children's friends, we do not approve of their connections, we criticize ...
Are we right, let our thoughts out loud, whether we can afford to intervene and how to do it?
These are all issues we face sooner or later. In general, it is too late for our children ... We have had our own selfish and perhaps incorrect interventions, besides, it is too difficult to do right when you are one of the affected parties in the problem. Being a parent is a "problem" and you are always inside it. That's how your conscience begins to struggle, and in wanting to make mistakes, it makes the pedagogical thing in you when you're a grandfather or a grandmother.
In my case - my godfather.
The story: There are no perfect people, each of us has some flaw, something we do not like.
If we imagine that a person is a white canvas - somewhere on it there is a black speck, a little black dipstick, some imperfection, some of its flaws. If we look at it and continue to do it, and look, and explore, and again ... and again. The little black speck starts to grow, begins to conquer the white and relatively perfect figure - it's gone, but there's only one big black spot.
In the end, nothing remains of our "friend" and "friendship".
