Filling The Boots

The best instructors children the world over have ever known are Parents; yet ironically, most parents have constantly remained the worst examples for their wards in, at least, one way.
Did your father ever advice you to focus on things like your studies rather than build your existence around the opposite sex when you knew by name a couple of ladies who made up HIS existence? Or did your mother ever preach about the importance of always saying the truth even when it seems like that truth would be the knife with which your throat would be slit just before she told your younger one to tell the neighbour that she was not home? What are you looking my way for? I never said those were my Parents!
Growing up and watching our Parents parent us solely by words alone, which by the way aren’t always consistent, most of us repeatedly vow that we’d be nothing like them when we grow into Parent-Sized-Boots. “I’d listen to my kids because I know they’re not mindless!” some of us swear. “I’d lead an exemplary life.” others insist. The more damaged ones pledge that they’d rather die than abuse their children physically. Yet studies have shown that a few years after these vehement promises, only the luckiest of these people do not show signs of rot in the exact places where their parents had. Why is this the case? Is there some genetic marker that tags us to be just like our parents despite our better judgment?
However alluring the idea of blaming it on the genes may seem, my suspicion is that as we grow into adulthood under the influence of our parents – be they negative or positive, we unknowingly react to situations the same way they react to them. I cannot say, yet, exactly how it begins. It’s probably with the desire to scream at him because he’s always screaming at others or the inclination to be rebellious about something they want done because you know that they hardly ever do the right thing themselves. Whatever the case, slowly but surely the trickles build into a river and next thing you know you look in the mirror (either willingly or forced by others) and find your parent staring back. From this point on, it’s complacency and self denial for some and rehab for the braver folks because if your habits come to the attention of others, they must have eaten deep.
Luckily there’s a good number of years between the resolution-making stage and the “Oh my God, look what I’ve become!” stage. In that time span, there are a couple of things we can do to guard against falling into our parents old smelly boots.
There’s an age worn saying that a problem known is half solved. If there’s any truth in that, then realizing that mum and dad’s habits are bad is very important. If you never really call their acts for what they are, flowing into them would be almost inevitable. So identify these sore points in your parents’ lives and decide how exactly you want to differ from them. There’s no room for ambiguities here. Deciding not to be like Dad is fine, but you can’t leave it at being 'anyone but dad'. You have to define the person you intend to be because if you don’t, the decision to merely not be like dad could put you in the situation of the guy in the bible who casts out a demon and leaves an empty room.
Having painted a picture of who you’d like to be, step two would be to piece together the qualities that make up that individual and incorporate them into your persona. Living the dream would probably work best if the action plan is kept simple and achievable. Trying to beat a Greed problem by giving out ALL you own during your first rehab session is more likely to drive you insane than break the habit.
If there’s one practice I know to help with character building, it’s Introspection. Don’t wait for people to point out that you’re goofing at being nice or a good listener. Take yourself up on a self assessment exercise every now and then. If you must introspect though, please be honest about it. A popular saying of mine is “If you must, lie to others, but NEVER to yourself.”
For those who’ve had the mirror experience, all hope isn’t lost. Just have the good sense to laugh at your mistakes (if they’re funny), pick yourself up by the bootstraps and re-strategize taking into cognizance where you went wrong the first time.
Whatever the case guys, the next time you’re tempted to tell Fibbish Mum a lie, remember … slowly but surely.