Within the first week or two of bringing a child into the world, everything about the world changes. And you can't help what changes come over you, your thoughts and feelings, your world view. Of course, you don't know this has happened in the deep bliss/stupor of sleep deprivation, but you have changed deeply and forever, and so has your world.
Apr 28, 2010
You have become an investor in the Future of the World. You have become a Protector of the Innocent. You can't help it, you and the wee bairn are actually one person for a brief time. It's an indescribable time of delight and danger to realize how vulnerable you are to that red-faced bundle sleeping there in your home. He owns you, heart and soul.
Some of the mundane alteration is vividly brought home fiscally or physically but you just don't know how deep the Primordial Parent instinct runs until some Line is crossed-- its very existence an unimagined thing just days earlier.
Fortunately it was a small, but indelible event that woke the Primordial Mom in me when my own wee bairn was but two or three weeks old. I had left him napping while I went out to sweep the porch and carport in the blazing heat wave of that summer afternoon. The entrance to the back yard was wide open between the house and the back utility room, no one ever bothered to gate it, although the yard was fully enclosed otherwise. So I swept the carport as I headed toward the back yard and patio only to see a strange medium-sized dog there. It was alarmed that I was between him and his exit. He seemed rather unhappy about it, so I used my broom to make a small gesture of "Git!!" as I moved into the patio area, making sure he had plenty of room to make for the exit. No harm, no foul.
But he stood his ground and snarled at me.
Oh yes, he was claiming his ground and daring me, on my own property, to make him move! He bared his teeth and repeated the warning growl and for the merest instant I thought myself afraid. The merest of a nanosecond. . .
The full --I still don't know what to call it-- and frightening welling up of the Something inside of me that I had never met before came roaring out like. . . do I have to say it? A mama bear protecting her cub. But it wasn't a waking thought, it wasn't rage, it wasn't fear. It was indignant righteous wrath. The nerve of the creature to stand within my boundaries and threaten me--and by extension, my child-- as though it had some claim to the ground under its own feet was just too much.
I wish I could tell you what happened next, but suffice it to say I think I was able to quickly convince the creature of all of my intentions toward it, reciting all of my maternal rights and his infernal wrongs in a single breath of fire and fury. I barely remember how he left the yard, only coming to myself once back inside, shaking and breathing heavily as I went to check on the safe and sleeping innocent part of my very heart and soul. Of course he was fine and was never in any danger. I still marvel at the moment, these many years later.
It still scares me a bit, to know that particular and spectacular Something-- that vulnerable part and that primal protector all somehow tangled up in more complex emotions and arrangements of fact-- is still there. It shouldn't be awakened needlessly nor called upon lightly.
Yet I see dangerous strays within my boundaries, their angry, snarling faces telling me that they're going to stay no matter what. Shouting epithets at me and challenging me for the country I have worked for, paid for, paid taxes on, and cherished with all my heart, all my life. They want to grab at what many others have worked to earn and hide behind the gleaming teeth of their power-grabbing masters.
They don't love my country, and they seek to harm it for their own ends, these strange, hireling caretakers who are allowing the Estate to crumble while they greedily steal the silver of our Industry and the golden lamps of our Liberty.
My soul is stirred. . .