The finer points of Kryptonite

I’ve been thinking about Superman.

After my first cup of coffee I made the bed. I felt good. I felt powerful. “Coffee is my Superman cape,” I thought to myself. Then I corrected that because Superman isn’t strong because of his cape. He’s strong because he’s an alien living on Earth. As I understand it (and please forgive me, comics fans, if I got it wrong) Superman is super strong here because of the particular mix of atmosphere here on planet Earth. Back on Krypton he’s just an average Joe.

Nobody flies or lifts cars off of people on Krypton.

So after scratching my superman cape/coffee connection whilst making the bed I thought, “maybe instead it’s that mornings are my kryptonite.” But that’s not quite right either. I mean, I’m groggy in the morning but certainly mornings won’t kill me, no matter what my hyperbolic Facebook statuses might say.

And of course that got me to thinking all kinds of interesting things about Kryptonite and Superman and coffee addictions and making the bed.

Kryptonite is home. It’s that little bit of home that affects Superman so badly. The thing about Kryptonite that  I remembered this morning is that it doesn’t kill Superman, at least I don’t think it does. It just makes him weak, but weak like the rest of us. It brings him back to average Joe status and I suppose it looks so painful because after being super strong and able to fly all that time, being reduced to just being average would feel pretty painful to anyone.

That piece of home makes Superman vulnerable.

And that revelation got me to thinking about my own home, my own history, my own story because that’s what I do. I think about the connections like that and then I write it down here. Home is our Kryptonite, it’s everyone’s Kryptonite. Home and the reminders of home make us vulnerable, sometimes in good ways, sometimes in not so good ways but it exposes us to ourselves, to our past, to our loved ones.

Home is our Kryptonite.

Home makes us human.

And the truth is, it can be painful or humbling to be reminded that we’re human after all.

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