So I ask her, Doc said, “Why? What’s the deal?”
She was a young girl maybe not yet even sixteen. She gave her
name as ‘Iron-Butterfly’. He later learned her given name was really Brittany…
although the name Iron-Butterfly appropriately fit her appearance.
Doc Tiller told me this little story he had gathered while
off on some annual neurologist conference- about this young girl he chatted
with in the
Chicago
airport.
Doc is very easy to talk to no matter who you are. He becomes
smarter through the years because he makes the most of any opportunity to learn
something new.
He told me the theme of the exchange with the young lady was ‘change’;
about how people devise methods to counter the insecurity of change; often
creating artificial effects that give them security they naturally require,
while feeding the sense of adventures for which they lust. It is the idea of
security vs. freedom in the midst of an unstable world’s environment.
His story made me think about change.
Why do things change?
Springtime seems a
natural time to ponder such things; to stir such simple questions even though
there are probably only incomplete, complex answers that bother to come forth- and
even then reluctantly.
I guess that is the irony of humans living in the midst of
nature. Humans constantly find themselves in the middle of a dodge-ball game,
between security and risks fueled by curiosity- constantly running both away
and toward the two opposite ideas-dodging to keep from getting hit by harm, or
worse, un-fulfillment.
There seems to be an
innate need for humans to seek security, while once we gain it we become content
and then thirst to seek a newer adventure. It is a sport we constantly pursue; always
eyeing unknown horizons in the midst of surrounding ourselves with the security
of things that we pray never change.
We all have our security blankets, our pets, our books, our
music, our loves-they never change, or do they?
Doc told me that the young girl’s defenses fell immediately
when he asked her ‘why’. I guess he made her comfortable telling him her
darkest secrets.
He described well her tough exterior: Her in-your-face
expression, a body violated by too many tattoos, and her overall macabre
appearance of dark makeup and clothes. The simple question melted her hardness
and all that was left was the whimsy of a small child’s eyes who had probably overcome
too many obstacles for one so young. The question melted her defiance built up
by understandings long being denied.
“I needed to have something permanent in a life of chaos. I
wanted security in the midst of a voided family life and a world empty of
security-too many questions not enough answers. So, I created a type of security-
even though it was a fabricated one. But hey, isn’t most security only some kind
of illusion?”
Doc’s story triggered a notion that I often have to be
reminded of: that people, any age, are often more clever than their appearance
suggests; rarely is what you see on the outside of a person an honest
indication of what’s going on inside. I think it is called prejudice,
but in its real, natural form. I’m sure I am the only one who has ever done it!
“When I see my tattoos,” she continued, “it is a way I have
redefined myself in a life that usually defies definition. I invented a kind of
permanence where there was none. I may get old, my hair turn gray, even fall
out, but my skin will have the permanence of these tattoos of who I am. Other
generations have the solidity of musical tunes, historical events, books they
read, or fond memories of growing up, I have my tattoos. Before I die I can
look over at this tattoo of ‘Roses in Love’ and know it is me. I don’t have to
look in a mirror; I just look down at my arm and see me.”
Sometimes it is easy to forget how perceptive and thoughtful
young folks can be- I guess we were too, weren’t we?
Change: that illusive truth! I recently wrote a song…I don’t
know why I wrote it… it’s just called ‘WHY?’
Why in time
Do things go by
Bluebirds hatch
And away they fly
Puppy dogs
Grow old in time
Cornfields sprout
Then say goodbye…
Why?
…Springtime leaves
Wither away and die
Mistakes give you
A second try…
Why?
It seems folks who weather change best are those who know
what stuff to say ‘goodbye’ to and when to say ‘hello’. Most often we don’t get
to choose the stuff we keep in our personal backpacks or those ‘goodbye’ things
left upon the path along the way. Some though, we do get to choose; that
favorite book, TV show, the music on our I-Pod, family and friends which
cushion the confusions of the journey. For Iron-Butterfly it was her tattoos.
She had a childhood without fairy tales, celebrations, rites
of passage or the nurturing of parents secure in their beliefs, or even secure
with themselves.
She told me why, “My parents were children trapped in adult
bodies and adult responsibilities, so I had to quickly adapt to becoming an
adult while still in a child’s life- to compensate.” She understood somebody
had to be the parent!
I often wondered why human animals take so long to nurture
into adulthood compared to most animals- heck, a calf is on its feet within
hours, and running around within days. But a human takes so long until it can
be on its own. Years to physically grow, emotionally mature and develop the learning’s
of practical knowledge into a balance between skills and dreams in order to apply
them successfully.
Brittany had her answers… and maybe it's as good a start as
any.
