To Reproduce

— or why flamingos don’t pay rent.

Photo by Gaurav Patil on Unsplash

Reproduction.
The most primitive meaning of life.
Isn’t it?

Not everyone chooses to focus on it — thank God — but it’s hard to ignore that we, as a species, are here to ensure our own continuation.
It’s true on the savannah.
In the jungle.
In the forest.
And for us.
Even if it’s sometimes harder to notice.

So why is it so hard to pull off?

Why is it that both mother and father are forced to sprint back into the workforce at the first legal opportunity, burdened by the economic dilemma that having a child is simply too expensive?

By the banks of Lake Nakuru, flamingos gather by the millions — a pink, moving tapestry, here to love, eat, and die.
And we can’t afford.

If you try to see us on the same level as those flamingos, it becomes painfully clear:
We can’t have a pink tapestry.
Because we already are one.
We’re everywhere.
And there’s too many of us.

So what’s the point, then?
Why even have children?

Here’s what makes us different from any other species:
Regardless of how many of us there are…
Regardless of the cost…
Regardless of how little the system helps us…

Having a child as a human being can mean something more — if you let it.

And that’s where we differ.

A human baby is one of the least independent mammals on Earth — capable of doing almost nothing on its own —
Yet it can rebuild the parent’s sense of self entirely.

A transformation so total that not every parent can stomach it.

But if you do —
If you surrender fully, love fully —
Your understanding of the world will never be the same again.

You become devoted.
Wiser.
A protector.
A witness.
A fool in love.

You notice the world is more colorful than you thought.
That people are more complex than you thought.
You feel things you didn’t know could be felt.
Know things you never thought to ask.

That’s not just a species trait.
That’s magic.

So if there are too many of us, and the resources don’t stretch for all —
Maybe just one child is enough, if the effect is indeed that profound.
If you dare.

And I hope you do.
Because a better friend than your daughter or son… you’ll never find.
If you let them.

For every parent aching for more time
- this is for you.

Sit with your child.
Look them in the eyes for as long as they need
- and see who laughs first.

I have a feeling that ache will lift and you’ll see the pink tapestry
— if only for a moment.
And sometimes, that’s enough.
Don’t you think?

If this stirred something in you - I’d love to hear what it was.
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