The ultimate story of stuck. My babysitter is all in a twist about her new boyfriend and the more she writhed between wanting to tell him off for all his shortcomings and deceptions and and and…It all brought back so clearly my own tendency to puch that dumb tarbaby right in the mouth!
But Ooooh beware! For it is just the engagement desired by this baby —hit me baby one more time— cause each time you do you will stick like glue only worse.
Yes I have punched the tar baby driven with my own need to ‘help’ to ‘fix’ to sort them out, to hold this tar baby responsible for their actions/inactions. But of course a tar baby isn’t responsible. It is neither responsive nor able. It can never be. Yet in order to BE is needs your participation. It delights in your righteous indignation and feisty outrage. Next to you it looks like the victim, like the most reasonable, dignified grounded individual in the world. But we all know the tar baby is victimising YOU!
And how do you break free? Well as it’s a trap– in the story usually someone must comes and frees you and keeps you as their captive. The Rescue! But what if no one comes? Escape! If you want to escape; you must rely on the elements. You must wait for the sun to come out and melt the baby down. And for God’s Sake stop twisting and fighting! Then from this sticky goey state you have to puuullll yourself free. Extract yourself. If you are successful then you must be carefull as you will stick to everything and everything will want to stick to you: all the random debris that swirls in the world. The friction of living will eventually, with patience and determination, eventually wear away the tar that covers you. But Beware! as you are covered in a dress of pitch – you are sure to go up in flame unless to learn to keep your cool.
Look to the sun, feel the friction, keep your cool. Along a distance day all will come clean