A reflection on the childish behavior of some adults.
Childhood is always imperfect. I don’t think any of us had a perfect childhood. The notion of a perfect childhood is a myth. We go through life attempting to recover from what we experienced as children. There are no exceptions, but the degree of imperfection is highly variable.
For some, childhood could be marred by a lack of food, shelter or affection . We never recover the connection with the world we felt when we were born. For others, the experience of childhood imperfection is much more dramatic. Many childhoods are scarred by blatant abuse. Physical abuse, includig sexual abuse, is a common experience in childhood. Trauma comes in many forms.
Many people never recover from the trauma of childhood. They carry with them the experience of an imperfect childhood and often continue to live it out. Sometimes they inflict on others what they have learned. Sometimes they simply react to situations the way a two-years old might have a tantrum. Some never grow into sexual maturity and, as an adult, relate to children the way they would as a child, spreading abuse in their wake.
Fortunately, many people have the insight to recognize the imperfection of their past and choose to craft what they have not experienced. They choose to make what has been missing. It is a choice to plunge into the unknown and untested. Rising out of an imperfect childhood can be difficult, but it is also a choice. Many spend their lives learning what it means to be a human being. They make choices to learn what it means for them to be a human being. They choose to shed the imperfections of their childhood.
Many of us experience guides and aids along the way. When we are fortunate and observant, we learn how to abandon an obsessive clinging to the imperfections of our childhood. The help sometimes comes in the form of other humans. Sometimes, it is simply the dramatic and abundant world around us. We are often given chances to recover, but we must be observant and choose.
I sometimes become aware of the imperfections of my childhood. I also remind my kids that they did not have perfect parents. But I also tell my kids, as I tell myself, it is not sufficient to be aware of the shortcomings of childhood. To observe the shortcomings of my past is the beginning of a healing and growth. I may never achieve the perfection of my human essence, but this is a good time to move in that direction. I choose not to be limited by my past experience of imperfection.