I had an interesting conversation this morning with a son who shall, in deference to his desire to erase my memory permanently, remain nameless.

“I thought of something for your blog the other day.”

“Oh?” I perched, swinging legs that never seem to reach the floor on normal sized chairs.

“Yep. Really simple.”

I arch my brows in curiosity, wondering if he is going to write it. Apparently not, as he continued,

“Physical limitations do not define you.”

I wait. There is obviously going to be more.

“I must have been a pretty shallow person before. All I was interested in was appearances. That’s why I put so much effort into physical recovery. But I’ve learned differently now. Other things matter more. It is about life, about people, meeting people, lives really touching, mind meeting mind. Physical limitations don’t matter. They don’t define you. ”

Imagine small hobbit swinging legs pauses in pride about here as she regards her son. He narrows his eyes, picking up, distrustfully, on the maternal glee, yet continues, with an almost accusing glance,

“It is just like you’ve always said. The physical body is just a vessel for the soul.”

I can’t, of course, resist, given that he coined the particular usage of the term,

“Ha… you’re a Nerk!”

“Oh shit. Erase it from memory. Rewind. Forget I ever said it… never happened…”

Not a cat in Hades chance. My son is infected with nerkism.

He has, of course, been showing the symptoms of this incipient contagion for some time. I have watched closely and with interest as the tell-tale signs have appeared, aware that if it really got into his system there would be no cure.

One of the first noticeable symptoms was the spiders and their change of state from something to be disposed of my any means, to something to be evicted gently and with great care. I had harboured my suspicions for a while, but when even the humane spider catcher was thought to be too dangerous and potentially capable of damage, my conclusion was reached.

Of course, he didn’t himself see the creeping infection as it invaded heart and mind like a persistent virus. It is the nature of this particular beast that once it reaches the heart it becomes unstoppable and begins to pervade the entire being, waking it to life irreversibly.

Now, please do not imagine that I would ever discuss my son behind his back…*chokes quietly*… but a dear friend who has also been observing his progress did remark the other night that my son has been marked for nerkdom for quite some time, whether he realised it or not.

It has now, indubitably, hit him in the face like a wet fish, and he is aware of the changes creeping through his consciousness. I, of course, cannot help but smile.

I think it is fair to say that anyone with a deep faith or belief, one that answers the questions their soul may ask and gives them a map to live by, would want to pass this to their children. I have always believed, however, that no such personal faith may be taught. We can teach doctrine and dogma, but faith and belief require a personal relationship between oneself and that which one sees as a greater reality. So I always tried to answer my sons’ questions from a variety of viewpoints, allowing them freedom to choose that which spoke to their own hearts. It is, I think, all we can ever really give them in this respect. In this way, any seed that takes root and grows is the true fruit of their own lives and hearts.

It does not matter to me what path my children take… as long as it is their own and the journey made with a whole heart. But to see one of them adopt a very nerkish stance, I have to say, gives me a warm glow, knowing as I do how much it has helped me learn.

And, of course, being ‘a most unquenchable hobbit’, I take an unholy delight in being able to call my son a Nerk too.