The other day, the power had gone off and we were left in darkness with only one candle.
My son and I were in a fight over some insensitivity but we were like, on the road to recovery. We don't like to be in a fight for too long. Advantages/disadvantages of being a two-person family.
My son and I were in a fight over some insensitivity but we were like, on the road to recovery. We don't like to be in a fight for too long. Advantages/disadvantages of being a two-person family.
Well anyway, we were in the same room because we were sharing the candle otherwise I guess we'd still have retreated to our respective corners. He was reading a book and I was reading fanfiction on my dying phone. The J in my story had an alter ego; a cold sumbitch, clinical, ruthless. He was trying to shut it down and tuck it away into a forgotten corner of his mind.
And it got me thinking about our fight and coldness and how everyone has that part of them that is clinical, and emotionless.
It's a hard part.
Cruel even.
Like the Soulless Sam from season six of supernatural and how he behaved like a droid.
The crazy thing is, when my son taps into that part of him that is cold, I always think he got it from his father. Even though, if you ask me, I will tell you that I have ice in my veins. Something happened that really brought that home to me that night.
I almost burned the house down.
See I was looking for some other candles and I found one tiny stub that was almost done. So I lit it and put it on top of a tray which was sitting on top of the fridge. Long story short, the candle burned down to its root and then set the tray on fire.
I was in the loo at the time and my son was in the sitting room. I don't know how he noticed that the kitchen was halfway to being on fire, but he shouted my name and said something's burning and I just ran.
But I didn't run in a panic or in fear. No, I just hurried.
Threw everything outside that was still burning and swept up the debris even as my kid stood frozen. He was clearly terrified. So I made a point to ask him if he was injured. He said no and continued to stand outside in the dark. I knew then that he was shocked and scared and whatever we'd been fighting about just ceased to matter.
Long story short, the house could have burned down but I stopped it. My kid did help me by pouring water on the flames. My heartbeat didn't accelerate, my breath didn't come short, my hands didn't shake, I wasn't moved. It was just a thing that happened.
I wouldn't even have noticed my lack of being shaken if my son wasn't. I was surprised that he was because he's not usually the kind of person who is emotional about things.
Naturally, all this navel-gazing about the cold parts of us had me thinking about recent events and the question I keep asking myself - why did it take George Floyd for people to start caring about police brutality.
And what it comes down to, I think, is what you nurture. You see, unlike J, I strongly feel that this ice-cold part of us has a part to play in our lives. It enabled me to walk into that kitchen and handle things before they went too far out of control - also thank fuck we don't live in a wooden house.
And of course, that took me back to this whole thing we're living through and what makes some people less "human" than others. And I think it comes down to which part you nurture, and which parts you don't. If your life is one of hate and fear, you're living in survival mode, that cold part is supreme. It's in the ascendancy. So you have less humanity, less empathy, you're living on the edge.
And that was an interesting explanation to me of why racism. Instead of being a balanced person with all the various parts, you have this being who lives in fear and so all they do is react. Isn't that interesting? What do you think?
