ENG БЕЛ РУС

люба (6)

Testing of Culture

"Candies, candies, candies! Give us candy!!! Candies!" That's how Luba usually greets the neighbor's red van. Before, the elderly neighbor would give her candies on his own, but now that's become his nickname. Now he's learned to say "no" and to run away.

Today, our Polish friends agreed to look after our children at their place while I attended a parent meeting at the kindergarten. Such visits for the kids always go by joyfully. But they end with difficulty. And this time, Luba didn't want to leave peacefully. She screamed at the top of her lungs: "gifts! gifts! gifts!". She cried and demanded. The Poles didn't understand the word "gifts", so I tried quickly to pull Luba into an embrace and rushed out, not even putting on my shoes. We quickly said our goodbyes and ran outside. Almost, almost... I thought. But I had to return for our pot.

While I was coming back, Ksyusha helped Luba explain by translating to everyone that "gifts" mean "presents" in Polish. The air was filled with shouts of "presents! presents!". Our friends were already searching for gifts, but I stopped them in time.

I shoved Luba into the car. Took a deep breath. Closed the doors and took control. Now I was the one shouting.

Only after about 10 minutes did I calm down. I felt shame. I started to pity the kids and reflect on what had happened.

The situation was too complicated for me. The words "Luba, you shouldn't do this!" no longer represent an absolute truth. Luba wants presents. Luba speaks openly about it. Luba demands it. I don't want to make her not want gifts. I don't want her to be silent about her desires. So, what do I want? Do I want her to better understand other people and their emotional state?

Is it Luba's problem that her words are taken so seriously (especially by me)? Is it Luba's problem that dad decided she should be a very grateful and proper girl, and if she's not, it's very, very bad? Or maybe I decided that I'm responsible for the discomfort she brings to others?

Writing this now, it hurts. Because I've always been someone who doesn't bother others, doesn't cause them trouble, a useful, non-confrontational person.

Is life just about being good, non-confrontational, avoiding confrontation, considering others' desires? It seems more like seeking approval. People like me are useful to society. They are "low-maintenance". They are always praised. They thrive on "praise-seeking" and suffer from its lack.

But there are others: Socrates, Kierkegaard, and the list goes on. Those who stood firm with their truth and absence of correctness. Who valued sincerity and authenticity. Even Christ was so inconvenient that many wanted His swift death.

My dear daughter, I hope you will continue to say what you genuinely desire. And don't pay attention to how uncomfortable it makes your "sick" father during those moments.




P.S.: "The servants of the householder came and said to him, 'Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?' He answered, 'An enemy has done this.' The servants said to him, 'Then do you want us to go and gather them?' But he replied, 'No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, "Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn."  Matthew 13

When you pull or trample the weeds in a child's heart, the wheat of sincerity and truthfulness might also get trampled. I think the focus should be on nurturing the good wheat of a loving and sincere heart in my daughter. And the weeds will be taken care of when the time comes. Though, undoubtedly, everything is millions of times more complicated and doesn't fit such simple hypotheses.

Ksusha's feelings when Luba got a new dress.

Ksusha: I feel so upset; I can't bear the fact that Luba now has a dress. I'm very sad that Luba has a new dress. Because Luba has such a beautiful dress. Because they didn't send one to me. I don't have such a beautiful dress. I feel really bad. Because I don't have a dress or any other clothing as beautiful as Luba's. It hurts that Luba has it, and I don't.

Pa: Have you thought about why it hurts?

Ksusha: I don’t really know, but feelings are so overwhelming, how can you respond to these feelings or what do they mean? Why do they work like this? You never know; life always has mysteries.

Pa: Would you like to solve this mystery?

Ksusha: I think so.

Pa: Like a detective story?

Ksusha: Yes, but much harder. You'll never solve it.

Pa: What if we try to solve it together?

Ksusha: I don’t know what will happen if we solve it.

Pa: We can buy a cake if we solve it!

Ksusha: In honor of what?

Pa: That we are great detectives.

Ksusha: I think they did it (referring to the characters in Ksusha's mind from the movie "Inside Out") to make me feel so sad, so hurt that she has a dress.

Pa: Why would they want to do that? What's the benefit?

Ksusha: If it's any of their hurt or sadness, they don't understand the benefit, they just think they are sad because of it.

I solved the riddle, that it's not beneficial to me at all. They're just sad and hurt, and they take turns.

He wanted to feel sad. He likes feeling sad, so he decided to be sad.

Pa: How about joy? How does joy feel?

Ksusha: There are times when even joy is sad. When it was gentle and scary. And joy could react to that. So, have we solved it?

Pa: I don’t know, but I think there aren’t characters in our head.

Ksusha: Oh, how come! There must be something that should guide us! We can't guide ourselves! If they weren’t there, how could we express sadness, or that we're happy, angry, or gentle?

Pa: Well, I think it’s us, it's really us feeling everything. What else could you feel in this situation?

Ksusha: I wanted to be happy. I wanted joy to come, but instead, sadness came. I couldn't embrace it.

Pa: Why do you think joy should have come?

Ksusha: Luba, my sister, I love her, I want to be happy for her, but I can't.

... they decided to continue another day, the riddle remains unsolved ...


Games - Meanings?

Complete concentration, detachment from the surroundings, all attention on the main thing. And this goes on for several hours. It's experienced, re-lived, sensed. A state from which it's impossible to exit. Any interruptions into this focused zone cause a rush of annoyance and a command not to disturb. - This is how Lyuba (4 years old) plays.

I get immense pleasure when I see Lyuba play role-playing games. The outside world ceases to exist for her. All her senses are concentrated here and now, in this life game. All of it is very serious.

It seems to me I too played with such full engrossment without the ability to stop, first in childhood, then in college, and later when I established my company. We also created scenarios, assigned roles, and played with all our hearts. And I'd get really upset when someone from the real world intruded into our game, interrupting us, pulling us back into the realities of business.

What am I playing now?

As soon as I finish writing this, I'll start reading the book "Games People Play," which recently arrived for me.

 

I Sit in the Library

I sit in the library
Contemplating life
Meanwhile, Lyuba
Is cutting out round shapes

A multitude of beautiful books around
A pleasant smell emanates from them
Yet, to choose one to read
I can't decide on any of them

Perhaps the author isn't good?
Or maybe the collection here is weak?
Guess for yourselves, my friends
What's the answer this time.

One day with children.

You know, some of the interesting and very important actions in my life had the "wrong" motivation. I went to disabled children, not for help, but to go to the camp. And then it dragged on. Well, there was something else...

But today, Dasha went to Warsaw for a few days. And in order to somehow cover up the resulting vacuum, I decided to do something with my children. And you know, there is something in it. I am sharing a short video of how our day went.

Maybe it will inspire someone to become a father.

The First Guest in my Kingdom

Last evening, Lyuba packed Ksyusha's backpack with full confidence that she would go to school tomorrow. She woke up almost first, insisted on getting dressed, put on her backpack, and went with Ksyusha to sit in the car, arrived at the school, greeted the headmistress. And then she went back to the car. They didn't take her in again. But they promised to admit her soon. Then, I bargained with Lyuba for a walk in the foggy forest in exchange for yogurt. After that, I also bargained to climb into the watchtower.

She was the first one who came and ascended to a place so dear to me. I embrace you, my beloved daughter, thank you for your trust and gentle nature.