An important conversation..

I must have been around ten years old or so, I can't exactly remember. One of my uncles, my youngest uncle, was talking to me about his relationship with his brothers, more specifically with his older brother, my father. Maybe, as you read those lines you might be wondering why I would talk about my family, after all this is the immutable blockchain, but, I've been pretty transparent with who I am, almost from day one, and this is one of those memories that shaped my understanding of the world. img src

It's somewhat tragic that many families have resentments that never quite get worked out, or at least it's tragic to me. I've had people tell me they are completely OK with not talking to their own blood, and as much as it's hard for me to empathize, I can sympathize with that mindset. My uncle's story is in my view one of those that never got a resolution, never got aired out enough even.

It's also no secret that the dynamics between the youngest sibling and the oldest are complex, with layers of parental behaviors, role model shaping, all weaved between play time and cradles immaturity. But, the complex fabric is not necessarily negative, and maybe more times than most its not.

Being a middle child has meant, at least for me, that I've ridden in the chair of observance for most of my life, and maybe some of my fascination with human behavior comes from those early years. I've also been someone to ask lot's of questions, almost with no regard for the emotionally charged response I was about to receive.

So there I was, listening to music with my uncle who in my eyes was an old man already, someone who remained stoic and in control at all times, although the concept of stoic was quite abstract still. I asked him why he did not like my father, why they did not get along?

What a crazy little question, what a terrible position did I put my uncle in. On the one hand he did not want to hurt his nephew's feelings with honesty, but on the other, he did not want to lie. Being the bright man that he is, he explained a particular aspect of his relationship dynamics that to this day resonates with me.

I'm going to paraphrase most of it, because it's been decades and I don't posses a photographic memory unfortunately. However, I'm sure the message has remained true.

"There has been plenty of times when I needed a brother, when I needed a friend, someone who understood me, who would help me. I never thought that was something I had to ask for, and I don't know if help is valid if I ask for it, I'm not sure... if you see me struggling, and you are family, would it not be natural for you to want to help? if I ask, and you help, does it mean the same? He's my older brother, but... he's also just him"

To my young mind this conversation got tattooed into memory. The understanding of what he meant however has continued to evolve over the years and today it's got ten times more depth, than when I first heard him talk about my father.

What have I learnt? What can I extract from this? I'm not sure entirely, but the exploration is somewhat personal and I'm sure a big part of me has been projected onto the memory over the years. However, here is what I can currently say about it safely, and I mean safely as me saying this without the fear of being wrong in the near future.

The human ego is so complex, so powerful and the same time so fragile, that it allows us to climb mountains while at the same time be defeated by a hypothetical. I saw, at an early stage mind you, the fracturing of a family, of two siblings, because they never learnt to speak with sincerity to each other in protection of their own egos. Today, decades later, without one single word being uttered into a piece of technology they live thousands of miles away in peace with the thought of never seeing or hearing from each other again. If that is not tragic, then we don't share the definition.

So what to conclude? What should I do? I guess, my best attempt, and that is about it. I sincerely think that if we would not succumb to the mirages of ego, to the idea that it's so weak that it needs bullet proof glass at all times. Often in conversations with friends, I find that most of us spend a considerable amount of energy protecting it, as if the idea of us, of who we are, is really that fragile.

And as I lower my guard in fear, but do so just the same, I remember this event, these events and ask myself, am I really that unaware of what I am?