Books like Ordinary People

Once, when my middle child was 7 or 8 years old, I was listening to the usual rhythm of her saying her evening prayer, when she surprised me by adding, “And Lord, please remember, when I die, I want to come back as a horse. Amen.”I laughed out loud at her prayer, but then I immediately realized my mistake, when I saw her face. She wasn't joking. I switched gears quickly, got serious, and said, “Honey. I don't get it. Why are you asking God to bring you back as a horse?”She answered very matter-of-factly, “Being a person is too hard. I don't want to come back as one, next time. Horses know exactly what to do and they have more fun.”Well, how can anyone argue with THAT? She's right. A horse eats, it drinks, it sleeps, it plays, it procreates, it eliminates, it dies. The horse's trajectory is ruled by nature. It does what a horse does. The end.But, humans. Sigh. Humans. Humans have strayed so far from the caves, our code for being human has become lost to us. Gone are the days of “Ugga, Ugga, Ugga” and all of our problems were solved. Gone are the days of the finger point to the vagina, the penis, the fire, the meat, the water, the baby, the sky, the ground. Our fingers used to do the talking, and I bet we were a HELL of a lot happier, too. (I've pointed my finger at Viggo Mortensen's penis in an earlier review, and nothing happened. It's like all the magic's gone.)But, I digress.Now, depending on culture, religion, geography, and social and economic status, the code can be completely different for each person, and chances are, the human code for YOU is close to impossible anyway, and you feel as though you're failing every day.Nobody's role is simple, these days. Not even a kid's. It used to mean minding your manners, respecting those who were bigger than you, treating each day as a surprise package, waiting to be opened. . . this is the age of perfection, kid. Everybody try their emotional and physical damndest. Strive, strive. Correct all defects.Correct all defects. Don't show weakness. The code for humans is so complicated now, it seems based on a pursuit of perfection we sought for ourselves, but had no realistic basis. We have holy texts that guide us to be good, but none that I'm aware of that ask us to be God.But we ain't Divine, people. And most of us are doing a lousy job of being perfect, but an excellent job of being miserable.And no make-up or yoga pants or juice cleanse or private college or grad school or Paleo diet or test scores or attractive spouse or clever children or 2-car garage or 4,000 square foot home or Mercedes Benz or colored hair or bank account or successful career or skinny ass or perpetual smile is ever going to make us PERFECT.Because we're ORDINARY, people.And as far as I'm concerned. . . the sooner we head back to the caves, the better. I'm headed to mine right now. (I'm trading in my overpriced yoga pants for leopard skins, and Viggo M's ass better be waiting for me).My daughter says she'll carry me on her back.