Tradition. It binds us. It binds us even if we need not be bound to it or hope not to be bound to it.
Having grown up in a traditional family. I was always expected to act in a traditional manner. Dad goes to the office. Mum stays in the kitchen. Well, mum, at least when she was around, realized that she can wear big boy pants. Dad had to keep up with her.
Having opened my eyes. I realized that I don’t always have to be “traditional.” I’ll keep tradition simply like wearing my underpants, er, under my pants. Tradition is the oldest form of “take it or leave it.” Tradition is that big booger up one’s nose that you can’t pick off in public.
Non-traditional becomes the unstoppable force. Tradition is the immovable object. What happens when the two collide? Non-traditional problems do not require traditional solutions, since they may not always work.
As I’ve grown to discover, they do sort of surrender to each other and have to do a bit of compromise from time to time. Non-traditional will always try to sneak in a few “insertions” here and there until tradition finally breaks down. Tradition will try to stay sane and will keep on trying until Non-traditional finally bogs down.
Good luck to both of them, seriously.
I think I should start a new category in this blog: Tales of a Split Personality