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.