The Toddler’s Travel MS/2019/11

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Like every other adults, I travel to cities and villages and to many places far and near. True to my age, I travel most often in the company of adults and with a toddler’s feet, worldview and purpose. These enrich me with a wealth of experiences as I interact with my immediate environment. The Toddler’s Travel is a reflection of that stream of experience that is truly mine and real.

Children’s movements are generally controlled movements. Most of my travels, as a child, are carefully chosen by adults who, with great love, accommodate my little world. Usually I feel secure in the hands of these adults who serve as my guides.

However, there are times when control and care signal threat and bondage rather than love and protection. In such situations one of my hands is usually locked in that of the adult companion. By such physical connectedness, effective regulation of my movements is anticipated in the adult world. But in my real world, I am trapped in the oppressive grip of an adult hand. The Toddler’s Travel, at this, becomes a soujourn in bondage. The adult hand intended to guarantee my security now locks me up with sharp pain which my senses interpret as suffocating.

In order to keep pace with my guide, I have to run all the way without intervening moments of rest. There are times when the discomfort of my aching legs and hand become unbearable. Then I have to burst out in tears and put up a petulant resistance in self defense.

My resistance and cries , however, yield nothing other than scoldings, threats, abuses and frowns from the adult guide. It is just like the foolish resistance of a tethered sheep attempting to oppose the movement of its owner. At such moments of my subjective experience of The Toddler’s Travel, I am completely helpless.

Then a seed of hatred and revenge germinates in me. Unconsciously, I begin to create a selfish world where I have to disregard every cry and laughter outside my worldview. I begin to dream of a revenge time when there will be a reversal of roles. I will grip the shaking hands of the senile adult with insensitivity and hate.

This is a bad dream, and the toddler must wake from it. The Toddler’s Travel must not end in the valley of revenge and hate, but on the mountain of growth, maturity and love.

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