Kryptonian Complex
…or the Superman Syndrome
This is a good day. This day marks the end of a season, which has taught many lessons, both in and out of the classroom. It was an early morning after a late night. Situations of this sort seem to be common this time of year. There was no beeping alarm, no blaring music to dissent the desire to continue the comforts of nocturnal respite. Rather, it was responsibility rocking the shoulder and whispering, “There is much to be done.” The numbers on the clock read something of the seven o’ clock sort, a number much to close to the time that was caught by my dozing gaze hours earlier.
Covers pulled up, pillow fluffed ignoring the rocking of responsibility for what seems like hours another look reveals it is now 7:02. This happens one more before the persuasive voice of the one who was rocking is replaced by a different, stronger voice. It’s the voice of a loving father, who desires success for his child. The comforts of home will soon be traded for the confines of education. Of course there is a bit of time between here and there reserved for daydreaming and reminiscing, a time to reflect on the day behind and plan the day ahead. An eastern walk places the sun up ahead and sparks the imagination.
Thoughts of children playing in the water down by the river, and feeling the uninhabited joy of youth once again; the stone stairs ascend and the cascading waters descends into a pool a water fight breaks out and a friend is left more than moist but less than saturated. A last dinner at her favorite restaurant, a nice restaurant with seats now waterlogged by two foolish adults who acted like children, for a brief moment. This truly was a full day, an early church service with a sermon on love, and an afternoon at the baseball field watching the home team do what baseball teams are supposed to do. The outcome of the game was rather inconsequential as we left before it was over in search of more interactive things.
Sitting on a sister’s bed telling her of these things and discussing matters of no consequence, we stumbled on a matter of great consequence. We are cut from the same cloth, and yet there are so many differences. Why is this? It can be surmised in the title statement. We come from a place that produces great people; this is ware the leaving friend will find herself. It is a great place, one that is missed greatly. The truth is however, that those who are trained in that place are able to fully express the things gleaned from their experience there when they are in a different place all together. Like superman who is only super on earth because of the planets atmosphere, whereas on his home planet all people are the same.
We are all like that in different seasons of our lives. If we can take the good things from one season and carry them to the next we will be able to walk in power against those things which hindered us in the previous season. People from home are like superheroes while at home no one is extra special but put us in a new environment and we stand out like a man in red tights and blue spandex. To the sister, it’s good to have someone cut from the same spandexy (not a real word) cloth & to the friend, it will be exciting to see what color your costume is and what kind of powers you have when you return.
Writers note;
For all those who think superman is dumb and not a good model of spirituality I apologize and if the poetic wording was at times confusing I’m sorry about that too. The readers digest version is as follows; On the way to school today, I thought about yesterday. Yesterday I went to church, took my close friend who is moving soon (which I am very sad about to a ball game, we walked down by the river, splashed each other in the stairway cascade, and went out for a nice dinner soaking wet. Later that night I told my sister about the day, and commented on missing the friend. The friend is moving to our (sister and Is’ home town. Yadah yadah…Superman, spandex, etc.
j.
This is a good day. This day marks the end of a season, which has taught many lessons, both in and out of the classroom. It was an early morning after a late night. Situations of this sort seem to be common this time of year. There was no beeping alarm, no blaring music to dissent the desire to continue the comforts of nocturnal respite. Rather, it was responsibility rocking the shoulder and whispering, “There is much to be done.” The numbers on the clock read something of the seven o’ clock sort, a number much to close to the time that was caught by my dozing gaze hours earlier.
Covers pulled up, pillow fluffed ignoring the rocking of responsibility for what seems like hours another look reveals it is now 7:02. This happens one more before the persuasive voice of the one who was rocking is replaced by a different, stronger voice. It’s the voice of a loving father, who desires success for his child. The comforts of home will soon be traded for the confines of education. Of course there is a bit of time between here and there reserved for daydreaming and reminiscing, a time to reflect on the day behind and plan the day ahead. An eastern walk places the sun up ahead and sparks the imagination.
Thoughts of children playing in the water down by the river, and feeling the uninhabited joy of youth once again; the stone stairs ascend and the cascading waters descends into a pool a water fight breaks out and a friend is left more than moist but less than saturated. A last dinner at her favorite restaurant, a nice restaurant with seats now waterlogged by two foolish adults who acted like children, for a brief moment. This truly was a full day, an early church service with a sermon on love, and an afternoon at the baseball field watching the home team do what baseball teams are supposed to do. The outcome of the game was rather inconsequential as we left before it was over in search of more interactive things.
Sitting on a sister’s bed telling her of these things and discussing matters of no consequence, we stumbled on a matter of great consequence. We are cut from the same cloth, and yet there are so many differences. Why is this? It can be surmised in the title statement. We come from a place that produces great people; this is ware the leaving friend will find herself. It is a great place, one that is missed greatly. The truth is however, that those who are trained in that place are able to fully express the things gleaned from their experience there when they are in a different place all together. Like superman who is only super on earth because of the planets atmosphere, whereas on his home planet all people are the same.
We are all like that in different seasons of our lives. If we can take the good things from one season and carry them to the next we will be able to walk in power against those things which hindered us in the previous season. People from home are like superheroes while at home no one is extra special but put us in a new environment and we stand out like a man in red tights and blue spandex. To the sister, it’s good to have someone cut from the same spandexy (not a real word) cloth & to the friend, it will be exciting to see what color your costume is and what kind of powers you have when you return.
Writers note;
For all those who think superman is dumb and not a good model of spirituality I apologize and if the poetic wording was at times confusing I’m sorry about that too. The readers digest version is as follows; On the way to school today, I thought about yesterday. Yesterday I went to church, took my close friend who is moving soon (which I am very sad about to a ball game, we walked down by the river, splashed each other in the stairway cascade, and went out for a nice dinner soaking wet. Later that night I told my sister about the day, and commented on missing the friend. The friend is moving to our (sister and Is’ home town. Yadah yadah…Superman, spandex, etc.
j.
posted by j. at
11:02 PM
9 Comments
