Dear Fellow,
Else I make a mistake twice, I had better look up the word “illusion” in the dictionary. According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, illusion means “an incorrect idea: an idea that is based on something that is not true.” Hold on. Stay with me. Let’s get into today’s conversation.
Lately, I figured I easily get into arguments with my parents. It is often about the perception, views, or perspectives we have about an issue. I usually set the tone for the arguments, always starting it. This is a result of my increased awareness and exposure. While it isn’t always pleasant, my father is making peace with being asked for evidence or facts to support his assumptions. My mother is taking longer to adjust.
Last week, we were involved in another argument. (Now, my father isn’t comfortable with using the word “argument” for the moments I am describing above. He prefers to see it as just another kind of conversation that is of necessity to take place in the home.) My mother needed some rest, so she didn’t say much as we talked that night.
The issue at hand was the assumption that the reason for a certain young mother’s ineffectiveness in her home was an error in her upbringing. My father and I agreed that the husband and wife have serious adjustments to make if they must forge ahead. But my father was of the opinion that the error is more in the past of the young mother, while I insisted it was more of the husband’s failure. Far from a resolve for that conversation, I said, in conclusion, what the couple needs is Jesus to work them out from within their individual selves. My father remarked saying that the response was myopic.
I felt offended and insulted. It sounded like a blaspheme. I mean, why will he call the reason for what makes him adorable in my eyes “myopic”? His explanation for that description wasn’t suitable for me that night. Only a little of all he said in response to my demand for a basis made sense. I grew somewhat intolerable and inattentive. The conversation didn’t go well and I had reservations when I was in bed.
I did sleep eventually.
The first thing on my mind the following day was a question. “What is myopic? The word in itself, what does it mean?” I could not respond to the question. I was blank. I had to look up the dictionary. According to Merriam-Webster, myopic (from the Greek word myopia) means “a lack of foresight or discernment: a narrow view of something.” The last prompting afterwards was to apologise to my father just when I will first greet him that day. I figured my understanding of his standpoint was faulty and I had disrespected him somehow.
My initial interpretation of the word “myopic” the previous night was “not potent”: that is, “You mean Jesus fixing them from within isn’t a good and even better solution to the issues in their home?”
I am the foremost writer in the family. I have the highest level of education, so I should know better. I should know the word myopic better than my father does. I did not even consider looking up the word in the dictionary while demanding for an explanation of his word usage.
My father’s stance is that the parents of the young mother didn’t do a thorough job in her upbringing. The issues before us about this couple were more inclined to their individual character and personality. My father didn’t imply that Jesus isn’t able to make them anew and their marriage beautiful. Rather he was alluding to the place of responsibility on the human part in ensuring a blissful marriage; he thinks parents have a primary and vital role to play in the training honourable spouses, mothers and fathers for posterity. Not only was he calling my attention to the far-reaching impact of the “negligence of duty” on the part of the young mother’s parents as part of a cause for the issues we were observing, but he also stressed that he is learning to take responsibility for our (my siblings and I) upbringing from the conversation. He said these things during the conversation that night, but I had little tolerance for a man I thought I knew better than.
My perception of the word “myopic” was illusional. Looking up the dictionary was the cure. A cure from that mental falsehood. However, the process would have been less embarrassing had I listened with readiness to learn as we talked with my father that night before bedtime. Being able to apologise to him the next morning was divine. I slayed my ego one time again! (How Jesus works in my heart: I am trying to imitate his humility.) My father accepted my apologies and celebrated the cure of my illusion. And there was no ban on arguments in the house!
Have you had your beliefs tested and tried, your understanding evaluated? How frequently, when was the last time? In an age of information overload, our illusions must be plentiful. Humility, patience, and tolerance among other virtues will guide to cure.
As you discover your illusions, seek their cure. Do not assume certainty when your views and beliefs have not been tested, good Fellow.
Your LetterMan,
Tongjal, W. N.