I’m only saying this once…

I DO NOT like to repeat myself,

and yet my lIfe is often taxed with repetition. It is possible that my children partially subsist on the platitudes and warnings that religiously frequent our conversation, and honestly, after saying them once (maaaaaaaaaaaybe twice), I scream them. Are they that important? Usually not, but I really don’t like repeating myself (yeah, I know I already said that).

But really, what is the point of all this repetition?

My life natually includes many healthy repetitions–If I cannot play a certain passage, I repeat it (YES! I just killed a mosquito), and often this repetition is what helps me to learn. So why do I have such little patience for my children, who are obviously learning as well?

I’m actually not so sure that they are learning.

I think there may be a point where repetition is no longer a valid form of communication, even when accompanied by my fantastic screams and wild gesticulations. I think it’s possible that excess repetition just becomes noise. When I practice, I am actually not just repeating. I am learning, changing, going faster, refining pitch, and in this way, nothing remains static (I hope). My repetition could be damaging, desensitizing, undervaluing my communication and turning my children into zombies. Or maybe, it’s just not working anymore.

And I don’t think I am a very patient person. That will not be the revelation of the century for my wife, but I think to some I put on a very patient face. But it’s difficult to maintain, and in general I’m not one for putting on faces.

This subject is making me weary–I’ll probably return to it later.

 

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An inauspicious beginning

Let me be clear: I am not yelling right now, and, in fact I am quite calm. I am sitting and enjoying a great beer after a fairly relaxing Sunday afternoon which included such exciting items as a Japanese Curry lunch, reading on the couch, Church, and playing “Sorry” with the whole fam.

The beer I'm drinking

But I do yell. In fact I did today, at least once. I yell when I get mad. I yell when I want to be heard. I yell when I’m passionate. I yell at my wife and my kids, even though many times I really do not want to. Many times I yell, and I cannot help myself. And I like it. It is a release, it feels good, and I am good at it.

And well, I’m hoping that maybe writing a bit here might help me yell a little less. Or perhaps satiate my desire to yell in a different form. I’m essentially selfish. I want to be heard, listened to.

So let’s see what happens. I hope it doesn’t just end up being a selfish endeavor, because I have to admit, I think I’ve got some important things to say sometimes. And sometimes, well, I just need to yell.