TOPICS WITH DAD

By an Indigo Child

Operation Indigo Integration successful. Updating operational status from "Oh, one day" to "Foot in the door!" I don't know how long it will be before I'm discovered. Thank God they don't know who I am. An indigo in their very presence. I am the enemy. The Columbine shooters were indigos. Every kid that has attacked someone at his or her school was on a psychotherapy mind-altering drug of some sort such as Ritalin. As far as I know they were all indigos. If the system doesn't work, fight it. Rebel. That is our warcry. And now with a little luck and charm, I, a world shifting indigo, am now employed by the School District. When I am on campus, and amongst my newly found peers, I must remain calm, and fight my own ADD that kicks and flails from time to time. Careful not to give myself away. I become surrounded by them, the teachers, I consciously breathe air at a slow pace, as I watch them turn to me, smile and ask their questions. It's nerve racking, but I know there are fellow indigo kids walking around and sitting in classes, and I remember why I am doing this. Updating mission level to Operation: WREAK HAVOC.

No, seriously I am not the enemy. I am a person who cares though, cares about the future of our kids, our country, and human beings. I used to not know why. I used to not care. I was actually pretty selfish growing up. I would succumb to my laziness and lethargic habits of dealing with things as they presented themselves to me. I get that from my dad, even though he's going to hate me for writing that, but it's true. He once told me that in college he would party, and do poorly in school. Then one day, he asked where a friend was going. His friend told him the library, and he decided to go along. He learned to enjoy going to the library, because that was the only thing that was going to save him from dropping out. I don't think he enjoyed beginning to be a good student. He began the cookie cutter path for boys in that day, and finished school and got a job. And did the best he could.

This is not a reality for me, however. I could never be happy learning to do the right thing. I know that whatever I choose to do, is in fact, the right thing for me. Whether that means making a lot of money or not. I could never be happy going through life only partially enjoying something that I do. And when I have to play nice and pretend to enjoy a moment, I'm dying inside. The light's on, but no one is home. Maybe it's the indigo in me; maybe it's just me. I don't know. I think it's from my mom.

My mom is free spirited. She enjoys traveling; she has a lust for life. Zvave (Yiddish for lust for life). My mom raised us, my sister, and me, and I model my personality mostly after her. When I notice myself acting like my dad, mostly it's mannerisms or attitudes I dislike about myself, like nagging, or overprotection. Also shrugging off heart to heart communication. My dad has never talked about sex with me. My parent's roles are reversed. My mom is a nurse, and I can talk to her about penises and vaginas. I could comfortably bring up any topic of conversation with her, however with my dad he would wince, and say "yeah, yeah, okay," next subject kind of attitude. Almost like he was grossed out. He only shows affection when it seems like a proper time to, even though he is full of affection, and has a lot to give. When he's done talking about humanly emotions and words, he's almost relieved to have gotten through it. When he's not talking about this stuff, this stuff life consists of; it's all business. He's very good at holding a conversation. He covers all the pertinent topics with me. I often tease him about having a written list of things to cover with me, but he has been doing it for so long, it just comes naturally.

Conversations with him will starts off with a big East Coast 'HOW ARE YOU!? GOOD?" He'll then relate back to me how long it's been since we've talked, or how long it's been since I've talked to my sister. Now it's topic time. Let's bullshit about the same topics as interestingly as we can, so that if someone was listening in to our conversation, they would almost guess it was a new conversation. He usually starts off about the dogs. He has two golden retrievers, one being Trevor our old dog. He tells me how well Trevor is doing. He then covers the weather, and being New England it's always interesting and changing. This usually leads into somewhere He and my stepmother went for the weekend. I actually like hearing about this, because he is very much in love with her, and he comes out of the routine sometimes and tell me how nice it was. He'll then kick into local Boston sports, because I'm his son, and it's guy language, I guess. Even though, honestly, he is my only source for sports really. I stopped paying attention when players seemed to switch teams every other year, and it was impossible to keep up with expansion teams and changes. Money has ruined sports for me. However it's nice to hear how my old teams are doing. By the way, I was happy the Patriots won the Super Bowl this year, but it came and went. The Super Bowl was the first NFL game I watched all year. It was exciting though. Hmm, sports, and that is pretty much it for topics. The end of the phone call is still strictly business, and communicated in the only actual language my father and me have. Nagging. This is the point where I find out whether I need to call grandma for any particular reason, or call him back after I obtain some piece of pertinent information he wants to know about. He will also update me, in a serious, focused voice, like I'm five years old and his words need to sink into my skull, about any birthdays or holidays approaching. He will also question me about my advancement in the adult world, and ask if I'm paying bills on time, and school. He tries so hard to respect the fact that I'm living my own life, but still NEEDS to ask about school and my plans, with the subliminal message, GET ON IT! None of this helps me. Once this heart wrenching part of the conversation subsides, it's time for funny story time. He'll actually say. "OH…" and go into a funny story, or something that happened to him. It's like the last twenty minutes I was talking to a different person. This is the father I wish I had in my life. It's like he's always been worried about being a good parent, but ends up fucking it up by trying too hard. It's like he has to get his nagging off his chest. And once he's done that the weight his lifted. My grandmother is like this too. Except with her, she waits until she's said goodbye. I say goodbye back, and then she begins talking for another twenty minutes. I know this is where he gets it from. And honestly, he hates when I say this, but it's a Jewish grandmother thing. It's just that naggy, suffocating impedence of my life. The only thing is, I now act on the phone with him as he acts on the phone with her. I am half interested while we cover the "topics", because I know the nagging part is coming. It's a build up. The reason for the phone call. No, the excuse for the phone call. I know he wants to talk to me, because he loves me. He just doesn't know how to tell me. He can say it, but doesn't feel comfortable to talk to me with his heart. Just his mind. And that's a way to talk to salesmen, not your children.

Maybe I should have him state his questions as the conversation begins. You know, get the nagginess out of the way, so we can really talk. Clear the air. I love him so much when he's making me laugh. He makes me laugh the most, when he's talking about himself. GOD I LOVE IT. Want to know why? Because I didn't know that until just now. I'm 24 years old. My parents divorced when I was five. I have a dad that loves his kids so much. This can't be said about a lot of children today. I am very very lucky to have him. And I know it for this reason. He has provided me with a male role model. A father figure. Even if I don't want to model myself after him, I DO have something to go off of. I feel so bad for kids that don't have that. See my dad over-parented. I would see him once a week, and he would take me and my sister out to dinner. We did enjoy going out to eat with him, and seeing him, except he would do the same routine, every time. It got so old. He always asked me about homework, and about school. I was like a toddler, and my dad berated me, every week, for school. He felt like that is how a good parent acts. I always lied to him, and said yeah, I do homework. SHRUG, SHRUG. I would get furious inside, but because he was asking me in love, I bit my lip usually. Sometimes I would yell and get pissed off. But for the most part, I never did well in school. If I actually did do my homework, or told him I did well in school, he was ecstatic and said GOOD! Like he was responsible for it. And this irritated me more than actually shrugging him off and telling him lies. Or telling him no in a low voice and just get what annoying nag that was coming my way. So I never really told him I did good. Maybe this is why I didn't do well, who's to know? I won't say it was, because I can't safely make that assumption. I am an indigo and have ADD. And THANK YOU GOD for my mother, because she would not put me on Ritalin when teachers said she should. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK, there's no way your children will forgive you for doing it, whether they consciously understand that or not. Anyway, off the subject. Coming from a guidance point of view, a child will open up if he wants to. There is no way to just dig. You have to establish trust first. And then even with trust, then you have to loosen the kid up. A kid will not talk if he doesn't want to. I still love and talk to my dad often, because I know he was only using the tools he knew to have. I will use different approaches with kids and my children. I can consciously make that decision. If you've read the Celestine Prophecy, you know that is human evolution. And coming from my dad's family, I am probably ending a long and heavy line of old energy tools. They no longer work in this new energy with us new kids. I have really taken on a burden, learning these old tools, and it's really been a process to let them go. My mother is another story, and I have completely different tools and ideas to let go from her side. The big point here is that I AM making the decision to let a tool go. And that is where the evolution is. My good friend Shelli Buhr said it best. When you grow up, you will decide that you like and dislike things you have learned from each of your parents. You will keep some things you have learned, and decide to let go others. That is how humans have evolved.

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The author of this article is Jonathan, a 24 year old indigo living in Huntington Beach, California. He is sometimes frustrated, sometimes tired, and sometimes confused as to what is going on with himself. For all of this, he is grateful. "Think about yesterday, everyday. That way you can appreciate tomorrow."