DOUGLAS MODIG´S BLOG
Douglas Modig, Skåne, Sweden, invites you to a blog site that may entertain or interest you, upset or make you laugh. This blog may not depict tsunamis of nude celebrities or the sleeaziest gossip but not that far from a bit of teasing sensationalism on subject matters such as history, politics, science, human rights, art, literature, satire, gossip, prominent people, ordinary people, neglected people and spicy comments to go with it !
fredag 9 mars 2012
I DON´T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT....
Contrary to popular belief many people grow up with affectionate and compassionate parents, often in addition to close relatives with whom the child is bonding as soon as the process of individualization has lead to a fragile self, an ego, a me.
The misfortunes and failed relationships in adult life do not necessarily stem from neglect or abuse in childhood but the self esteem and gender specific mindset may.
The Matriarcate lost it´s last stronghold in Melanesia last century but there is much to be said for the dynamics of Patriarcality.
The omnipresent pater dictating and dominating may seem as as an inevitable social phenomenon which equals the natural laws. Of course not !
We know that in the majority of societies, except for the egalitarian mode of living, the women are fostering the young children and in many cases with an absentee father, be it the genitor or the pater.
The myth of man´s control over women and the outer room is stronger than the neglected potential for a mother to raise her son in a gender equal normative mindset without necessarily fearing he will grow up to be a homosexual. The homophobia in most cultures stems from the fact that procreation is loosing ground to sexuality in a non sensical biological context but not as scary as the devastating doubt a man in any culture suffers as to the question if he may rest assured that he is the biological father, genitor, even if he skips the social responsibility (pater) when his chosen partner has given birth.
Homerotic relations are common in strictly gender differentiated cultures and tolerated until a formal relation between a man and a woman is recognised by the community.If failing to consume the marriage the life is at stake.
Women raise their little machos in order to fulfill their duty an to guarantee that the son will develop in accordance with the dogma of the male dominated society even in the closed inner room surrounded by women and sisters during his most formative years until the boy comes of age for the men to start to commit and to iniciate their offspring in male rituals and occupations, ranging from some pesos to go to the first prostitute or learning how to use a arrow or a spear.
What would be the result if 50% of the population stopped short in their labour to mold small duplicas of their fathers, brothers or spouses ? Who else can make things happen? The woman is present at birth and usually at death. Why all the hype about men?
My childhood was a blessed experience of two parents who loved each other deeply, who solved differences in a sober and constructive way, showed their mutual loyalty for everyone and me to see, made me realise my individual potentials and being very clear about boundaries. Such a suggestion makes the therapists pull their hair out and the psycho analysts start to calculate a life of dollargenerating consultations.
Sorry to disapoint them. But if they´ve read their Anna Freud, Jean Piaget or Margaret Schönberger they would know better. The Object Constancy Phase with a solid Object Permanence will potentiate a wholesome ego and an adult better equipped to meet life´s brutality.
This, not withstanding, resulted in a severe trauma when my father died the day I graduated from high school. No, I never got over it. My mother, coming from a long line of emotionally, mentally and intellectually strong and independent women became a constant companion, to whom I returned from my extensive travelling and international missions. Even after raising two refugee sons and approaching my late middle age I was dumbfound the day my mother died at ninety five years of age and my world collapsed.
Any normal grown man would be prepared for the departure of his parents and yet, I became an orphan and I still am. Despite the optimal chilhood, or because of it, my reason for living, despite loving and affectionate relationships with the women of my adult life, was gone and still is.
Life is an endless row of going through the motions, keeping up appearances in order not to make people feel uncomfortable and to try to behave with some dignity not to embarass myself nor anybody else. Overly emotional? Not really. I am very content with the life I have led and the extraordinary people who walked with me on my way. And still do.
I do not feel ashamed for not pulling my act together. I pull my act together. But not necessarily with great enthusiasm or curiosity.I allow myself to recognise that my cognitive functions are intact and that I do not wallow in grief, trying to pull others down with me, or, worse, rejoicing in the misery of others.
I am what I am and I have the Need to Be...