Dr Phil McGraw

On 11th February, 1957, the day I turned 15, I marched through the wrought iron gates of Ashmole Secondary School, thanking 'God' that I had escaped hell on Earth. I was now free to lead my life as I saw fit. After an unsuccessful stint in a metalwork factory I joined the Merchant Navy as a deck boy. I slummed around the world, drank a few rum and Coca Colas, 'danced' with a few Creole sheilas, cut my hair like James Dean, had a few scrapes, got married and settled down. Well, not quite. I managed to wreck my marriage, but only after an extraordinary event. It happened one night after a party at Moller's Barn, Titirangi – Auckland's answer to Nimbin. My son was conceived in a tent at the bottom of the 39 steps which led to our home in View Road, on the slopes of a friendly volcano called Mount Atkinson. Thanks-be to the Volcano God!

I left my wife for a woman called "freedom", like, no one in particular, just space to breath and be myself. But before I left I was privileged to experience the greatest joy known to man – parenthood. Being a Dad, albeit for a few short years, is the only worthwhile thing I've done with my life. It changed me. When my son was born, I can recall thinking, "Well, this wasn't planned, I've no idea what this is all about, but I'll be the best father I possibly can."

A week after my son's birth, I remember looking at him in his cot, he was smiling, wriggling, and making funny noises, and suddenly I was overwhelmed with intense joy and love. I stared at him with tears rolling down my cheeks for – who knows how long? I had been reading Krishnamurti, and now I understood his greatest mystery – "perfect meditation" – when there is no observer and no observed, only the moment. I got it! It's when time and space merge and there is no thought, no time, no nothing, only the one, indescribable moment of bliss.

But everything stuffed up. I stuffed it up. Looking back on my life, I can see that I was a fat square peg (that's with an 'e') trying to cram myself into a tiny round hole. I tried to conform, but all the time I was doomed to fail. I thought I could have my freedom, and still see my son whenever it suited me. Life had other plans for a selfish person like me.

This blurb started out as a letter to my son, it evolved into a little booklet, and now it occupies a mini-blip in cyber space. I believe that it's one of the more important documents ever written, and I don't care how vain that sounds. Nestling within these pages is the the answer to many of the world's problems, in particular, crime, cruelty, addictions, suicide and war. If parents adopt the advice I'm offering here, this will become a kinder, friendlier, more peaceful planet, just one generation from now.

There again, no one might read what I've written, or they might read it and then ignore it. In which case I'd have been better off playing with my willy.

A word of warning – page two, in particular, contains strong criticism of the bible and its role in encouraging child abuse. I call myself an atheist yet I am not quite an atheist. I keep one tiny segment of my brain alert to the possibility that there might be an intelligent creative force at work. But because I am an intelligent man I have figured out that corpses don't spring back to life. Therefore when someone tells me that one such did spring back to life – complete with perforated extremities – and that because he died (but didn't die) he saved me from hell by washing away my sins, I say – "CRAP"!

The bible encourages parents to beat their children with rods. Parents – particularly Christian parents – insist that it must be OK to hit kids because it's in the bible. Society has been down this road before, when the abolishionists were trying to stamp out slavery. Christians pointed to various passages in the bible where "god" gives permission to capture, trade, and if necessary, murder slaves. They were able to show that Jesus ignored the plight of slaves. Even so, the abolishionists won. They beat "god", figuratively speaking. And now, 150 years later, we can all see that the bible errs when it encourages slavery.

But we still can't see anything wrong with cruelty to children, unless of course it's really extreme, then we might raise an objection. The authority of the bible must once again be challenged. There is no more important task. People might argue that drugs or terrorism are of greater importance. Wrong. Children, properly raised, don't turn to drugs or terrorism. Poor parenting is the root cause of most problems facing mankind.

Poor parenting results in anger and rage which, when expressed universally, results in war. The billions of dollars being wasted on warfare and so-called "defence" would have cured cancer ten-times over! We choose poor parenting, addictions, disease, crime, violence and war. There are a few years left, time, hopefully, to change the way we are. It's certainly worth a try.

Doug Monroe

The challenge starts here
But first read Dr Phil at the bottom of this page.

"It's said that most abusers were abused as children. We have adopted a bizarre standard in our country where that's become an excuse. If you've been an abused child and you're carrying that life-chain on, that's got to stop,
RIGHT NOW!"

Dr Phil McGraw

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