So, there's this exercise, claimed to help with healing some of our traumas, where – besides looking at what went wrong in our formative years – we also imagine what could have gone right.
I've heard mention before of people rewriting their personal history, which I imagine this exercise relates to. So I thought I'd draft something and see if it's worth publishing, for the good of all sentience.
Assembling my thoughts on the matter, it's clear that over the years I've welded neurons together through their repeated firings, which now form a fairly solid conclusive belief that my childhood and schooling were shit, which in turn legitimises my tendency towards depression, self harm, escapism, apathy etc. I hadn't really given writing an alternative history any serious thought, until just now when my eyes glanced across a chance social media post which sort of encouraged giving this a go, subscribe for more tips, etc.
I've never yet lied to myself about how excellent those years and relationships were, nor entertained a sunny alternative story. But here goes.
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Mum and dad were ideally suited partners, had extensive family background in the healing arts and interpersonal psychology, started a family out of sheer love for humanity's respectful place on Earth, and always worked kindly and patiently together on their challenges and differences. They effortlessly created a nurturing atmosphere which was a beautiful joy and privilege to be born into.
Sis and I were given the option of compulsory state schooling or self directed study. Naturally, having barely survived one mind-cancelling day of the former, we embraced the latter, and every waking moment was packed with unscripted curiosity and adventure. We were so fortunate that they didn't just throw us over the school gate and run back to their jobs! We all got to live as a cohesive, kind and inquisitive family enjoying our talents and revelling in the natural world around us.
Life was so sweet, that sleep often seemed like an inconvenience. Bedtime was variable, and was usually conceded when one had run out of energy for the day. Waking the next morning was met with a mental explosion of possibilities, all clamouring for consideration. We began living our best lives from an early age, and were on solid rails for continuing to do so. Respect and compassion were our coat of arms.
Every day was a school day; there was always so much to want to understand, in our continuous worlds not broken up arbitrarily into subjects and timetables. We gained qualifications as we needed them; we were encouraged to learn whatever we needed to get anywhere we wanted in life. Sis began to excel in farming, horses, and circus skills; I, in engineering, music, and psychology.
We continue to live and work in the family home that mum and dad put together, and fortunately have been able to raise our own families there with plenty of room for cooperation and solitude. It's set up as a cooperative community, with rules governing conflict resolution, equity, conduct, and attention to the sorts of things that tend to mainly cause communities to fail and decay. We look up to the operating principles that older, wiser native communities have relied on for thousands of years, tweaked a bit to sit well with modernity's ever changing challenges. We work hard to restore the land we're on to its fullest wild biodiversity, long before it was clear cut merely for cattle grazing. We have plenty of visitors all year round who love to come and stay, learn, work, play, and go home to their own communities to copy what we do.