Been a while! Blah blah, been busy, yadda yadda preamble, etc. OK now that that’s out of the way, I’m back to tell you about the greatest way I’ve come up with to throughly mess with my kid As a dad, I feel it’s my duty to play pranks on him and generally mess with him. It’ll build character (or foster neuroses) plus it’s a GREAT DEAL OF FUN®!!
He just turned 6 ( I know, crazy right?) and his vocabulary and understanding of the world is truly astounding. It’s humbling beyond words to see him explore the world around him and accomplish new and exciting things. He’s starting 1st grade at the end of this summer, and is totally looking forward to it! He’s smart, funny, caring, everything I could have hoped for and more. But enough of the mushy stuff, it’s time for a GREAT DEAL OF FUN ®.
So, here’s the scoop:
I told the Bug that he’s an Android. Not a robot-type, metal construct, but a super advanced android that looks and talks and learns like a real boy! I showed him the box that his parts came in, even got his Mom in on the story, which she’s corroborating. He is skeptical, but you can tell there’s a teeny tiny little piece of him that believes it too. He says things like:
“I’m not an android!” I reply: “Good, that’s what you tell your friends at school, they CAN’T know what you really are.”
“Well if I’m an android, how come I don’t sound like one?” Reply: “You’re not that kind of android, buddy. You’re made to sound and feel exactly like a real boy! Super advanced, no one can tell the difference.”
“Androids don’t poop.” Reply: “Only the best, most advanced androids have the bio-systems in place to poop. That’s why we don’t plug you into the wall at night. You are one of the few androids that gets his energy from food! Especially veggies. Eat up.”
“But Mommy told me once that I was in her belly for a long time” Reply: “Mommy carried you like that for a while, yup. It was the best way for your cerebral circuits to get to know both Mommy and Daddy.” Then I showed him the plaster cast of Mom’s pregnant belly they did at the shower. (LOLOL too evil, I know).
It doesn’t come up that often, and I am pretty sure he knows it BS, but every now and then he’ll start a conversation like:
“Daddy, what other kind of androids are there?” Reply: “We’ll, buddy, there’s worker androids, teacher droids, combat droids. I think about 10% of the folks you see on a daily basis are androids of some kind or another.” He gives me a look like he know’s I’m full of it. Then says:
“Well then, what kind of android am I?” Reply: “You’re the BEST and MOST ADVANCED of all the types. The Dyn-corp Industries Learning Android XR-7 MarkIII©. They are some of the only ones who can be ANY of the other types!” Another look like he knows I’m shitting him.
“Maybe someday, I can turn my hands into LASER GUNS!! Pew-pew-pew” then the conversation devolves into a tickle fight, and we both laugh.
I think he’s about 99% convinced he’s not an android, but every now and again, there’s that little bit of doubt (like when he comes to the office and a co-worker will back up the story). He’ll look around conspiratorially and ask me: “Daddy, if I really am an android, what would happen if I told someone?”
“Bug, you didn’t tell anyone did you?”
“No, but what would happen if I did?” Reply” “They will probably just think you’re weird.”
“I’m already weird, but weird is good!”
“Yes, buddy, you are weird in all the right ways.”
I love this kid
Do you know? If you answer yes, you’re probably wrong. My opinion, worth exactly what you paid for it, but there it is.
I ask this, because I sit here in front of my computer at 1:00 AM on a Saturday night, and I am remembering all the things I have been. All the different people I have been, both to myself and to other people. It makes me wonder if I even know who the fuck I really am. So, something strange happened when I started having this borderline identity crisis. A confluence of events that brought about a feeling of…well, for lack of a better word, hope. A combination of the right music, scary thoughts and sleep deprivation.
The realization that you don’t know who you are is a freakin SCARY thing. Try it, go ahead, I’ll wait. Your mind probably did what mine did at first…which is to say, you only allowed yourself to get so close to that thought before shying away from it, huh? Like edging your toe over a really long drop-off, but pulling it back before you could be in any danger. You looked over the edge long enough to get that ball-tingling feeling of fear when facing something you instinctively know is dangerous.
Because, the truth is, none of us really knows. Byron Katie once asked the question: “Who are you without your story?”. Brilliant. You go through life believing your own bullshit for at least half of it (if you’re lucky). At one time you may have been a drama-queen, insecure, selfish, closet-madonna-fan, freak who wished you were someone else. Maybe that’s all changed. Maybe it’s all the same, but the point is, whoever you were, you still are, in some sense of the word. And the truth is, everything that was true about you…is only true until this very moment. You’re always making decisions that make subtle changes in who the fuck you are.
You’re changing. You are not the person you were 5 minutes ago. Scary as shit. But, if you’re open to it, it’s also inspiring in equal measure.
You see, right now I think I’m a single dad who works too much, has a hard time saying “no” and is loaded with bad habits. But is that really me, or is that the bullshit I am believing about myself at this very moment?
Because if I relegate it to the bullshit category, I can be all the things I like about myself. All the things that actually made an impact on the fabric of me. I’m listening to some of the most amazing Drum n Bass I have ever heard, and maybe it’s the music, but at this moment, after edging my toe over that dropoff and not pulling it back, I see myself differently.
Right now I am that feeling you get when the music takes you.
I am the smile in my heart when I hug my son.
I am all the things I want to teach him.
I am all the things he will remember about me.
I am the feeling I got when I first realized I could get out of my own way enough to learn to dance.
I am the music I have yet to write, and the words I have yet to speak.
I am mistakes I will definitely make, and the ingenuity to fix them.
I am the boy who was too afraid to tell all those girls that I had a crush on them. I am also the man who was too afraid to tell some of them that it was more than a crush, and let them slip away.
I am the sadness of missing my Mom. And I will always be her son.
I am the groove I have when I think of the best “parties” I’ve been to.
I am choosing right now to be the moment when you forget how to do things and just do them.
I am the people I love. I am everything anyone has ever said about me.
I am potential. I am as young as I will ever be, and as old and as open minded as I can make myself.
I am both the bow and the arrow, and I am propelling myself toward tomorrow with all the speed and accuracy of my thoughts…but:
Right now I choose to be the smile and the tears and the groove and the idea and the beats and all the skills I have ever had.
So, when I ask you “Who the fuck are you?”, it’s not a snarky or agressive thing. It’s an honest question asked from the very unique perspective I am feeling right now. Just an effort to get you to put more than your toe over that edge, and not pull back. It’s a moment of clarity that I’d like to share with you, if you’re in the mood.
On some level, I think we all go through most of the day thinking everyone else is an idiot, even if we don’t admit it. Well, right now is one of the few times that I cannot think of anyone as anything less than beautiful. Let’s see how long I can make this last.
Wishing you all the best dream you’ve ever had, and the power to make it come true,
Funny sort of winter we’ve had so far this year, bug. Usually it’s snowed by Halloween, and by November it’s cold as hell and we’re scraping ice off of everything. I’m not complaining mind you. I love the winters here. I love the way the city lights reflect off the snow on the ground, only to rebound from the low hanging clouds and be magnified once again by carpet of fresh snow. The nights seem candlelit, everything somehow softer and orange-y.
This season has been very very different however, and this day it must have been in the seventies. The sun shining , warming us both and lighting up your hair and eyes. The air smelled like it was carrying the promise of spring rather than the quiet of the winter to come. You were being the sweet little boy I love with all my heart, but I could tell the warm day was calling us both for one last afternoon of sun…a gift that we were both eager to take advantage of.
You remain so fearless sometimes, my son. Fearless in the face of things you do not understand. Curious and unafraid and smiling whilst the world goes nuts around you. You leap and run and laugh and constantly remind me that maybe it’s not all as complicated as we adults make it. You bring me back to Earth when my mind sends me drifting in troubles yet to manifest. All I have to do is look at you, and all of a sudden the world is simple once again. If you ever catch me sometimes just looking at you smiling, then drop what I’m doing and join you on the floor with your trains and cars, you’ll know that’s what happened. I may have been wrapped up with all the nonsense I think about nowadays…then I looked at you, and remembered what it was to be here. Now. In the moment.
And for an hour or so, nothing else matters.
It’s getting cold now, the air crisp and brittle. It’s dark when I wake up. Quietly, I get ready for the day, anticipating your smiling face when I go in to wake you. My little Bug, who always smiles when he hears my voice in the morning. Yes, it’s getting cold, and it’s dark when we leave in the morning, dark when I pick you up at night.
But if this dark becomes too much for you, if it ever seems like it’s just too much, and things won’t ever be bright again, I want you to remember this day. The winter day that felt like summer. The way the sun warmed you and the breeze felt like a promise of better things. Remember me picking you up and lifting you high, you with your eyes closed, a smile on your face and heart. Remember you and I sitting on the slide at the park drinking cold juice. Remember and let the world become simple again.
Know that every end is also a beginning of sorts, my boy. The end of one season is the beginning of the next. Let the Wheel come around.
Somewhere out there the first snowflake is waiting to begin its slow fall from the clouds…drifting softly through still air to join us on the ground. Softly, and with all the velocity and grace of heaven.
Those of you who have known me for any length of time, are familiar with my disappearing acts. *Poof* I’m gone, sometimes for a week or two, sometimes for a lot longer. Most of the time, however, I haven’t really gone anywhere at all, and of course those of you who have known me for a long time realize that I’ve never stopped thinking about you, and that nothing’s changed.
Images of a crazy mad scientist’s lab might have crossed your mind, or some nutty idea that I’d like to run off with. One might imagine me sitting on a mountain somewhere meditating on the sound of one butterfly wing flapping. Which is funny in its own right, because that butterfly would just go in circles. Anyway, I am the type of guy who you can go years without seeing, and while many things in my life may have changed, it’s remarkable that I’m pretty much the same guy you knew all that time ago. Hopefully with a few improvements, and certainly with many of my flaws intact.
So where do I go? Well, sometimes I immerse myself in work, sometimes in recreation. Truth is, sometimes I just need to be alone with my thoughts and interests. A wise man once told me that back in more primitive times, man would leave the village and find a cave to just get away for a while. Modern man doesn’t really have access to caves readily, and might not know what to do with one if he found it.
So, we create caves in our minds. We do or think about things that some folks would find silly. We play video games, develop new hobbies, try to learn new things. Or simply veg out and do nothing, which is a very large cave, sometimes hard to find your way out of. So, what did my cave consist of this time, you ask? Good question, as I’m not completely out of it yet. I’m still winding thoughts around the spindle of my mind and haven’t really drawn any conclusions, which is also pretty typical.
There are a few things however, that many of you don’t know about me and how I think. In retrospect, I don’t believe that I’ve ever written these down until now. Just never really found words to them, or the need, but in the interest of describing what goes on in my cave, I share with you the following snapshots of who I really am…when I’m not with you.
I believe that most people are good, when their stupidity doesn’t get in the way of it. I think there exists a certain set of skills that if you’re not actively working on getting better at…you’re getting worse (example: driving. Most people think they are above average drivers. These people are all wrong). Someone told me once that:
Maturity is understanding that you’ve been an idiot in the past
Wisdom is knowing that you’ll be an idiot in the future
Common sense is realizing that you should at least try not to be an idiot right now.
I believe there is a supreme being, but I also am pretty sure that we’ve all gotten it wrong on just about every count as to how to describe and/or interact with it. I’m hoping there will be some new and relevant information coming out of CERN on the topic.
I believe that children are what’s best in us, if we allow them to learn, and if we are willing to learn from them. I think people should know how to make a fire, use a knife, understand the basics of self defense, know a little about history (at least some of the GIANT fuck-ups, so we try to avoid them today…), change a flat, and find north without a compass. Now, admittedly, that last one won’t do me much good, as I have the sense of direction the equivalent of a room-temperature radish. But at least I’ll be a radish facing north dammit.
I believe in people…in all of you. I am working on a better understanding of what the Japanese call Wabi-Sabi, and how it fits into my life. Part of the concept is understanding that nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect. That things are beautiful in part, because of these concepts. All of you are unfinished. All imperfect. None of us will last forever. And this makes you all achingly beautiful to me.
I believe that politicians are idiots, and until we can get a whole gaggle of them who can think outside of our own lifetimes, much less outside their own 4-8 year terms, we will continue having the same issues as always.
I also believe it’s impossible to find a good Kendo school in Colorado Springs, but that’s another post.
Holden Just turned two! Yes, for two years, I’ve been a Dad, and in those two years I’ve gotten more grey hair than in the previous 34. Little Bug is getting…uhh…not so little anymore. Still under 30 pounds, even though he eats like a horse sometimes. He’s still very very sweet, insatiably curious, and a startlingly fast learner. And, I am pleased to say, that even though he is in his “terrible twos” (which really aren’t all that terrible), he still likes to crawl up in daddy’s lap and just snuggle for a bit before dashing off to his next adventure. He does not seem to be all that interested in cartoons, or most kid shows, but has developed a strange interest in old Samurai movies. Like 1960’s Akira Kurosawa stuff. I put on the Disney Channel, and he’ll turn to the TV and blurt something out before moving on to play with his “YEGOES” (Legos are amazing. Just hate stepping on the damn things). I put on Yojimbo and he’s glued to it. Strange kid, but I love it!
Anyway, Dear Reader, I thank you for still being here. Excuse me while I shake off the moss that has grown on me while in my cave, and put some things in order. I have been thinking about you, and while what I have to share might not be earth-shattering, I am glad you are still here to bounce things off of. So by means of farewell for now:
“YEGOES!!” *scampers off into the distance*
OK, so i’ll admit when i first heard about the iPad (I was rooting for the name iSlate)I was expecting a full on-OSX device with all the wireless connectivity, ease of use and that typical Apple “WOW” factor.
And like…lasers. Maybe even a teleporter.
I’ll warrant that maybe we’ve all become a little jaded about how cool the iPhone really is, but it seems that this really is a big ass iPhone…without the phone.
I know eventually that my son and I will grow apart. It’s an inevitable part of growth that I both look forward to and dread with equal parts of my heart.
He will become more and more independent, the hugs will be fewer and he will stop thinking that I’m the coolest thing since Legos.
But for now, I am cherishing the fact that he follows me everywhere I go! I love the fact that when he wants to watch tv, he has to be either on my lap or so close to me that he almost is anway. He is always watching what I do, and trying his best to imitate certain things as well. If I leave the room, he immediately scurries after me making sure I don’t go too far, and if I’m cooking, he always stays where he can see me (which is highly convenient, as I of course want to make sure he stays away from my home theater equipment).
I’m currently taking advantage of this by having him repeat words after me, and increasing his vocabulary by holding things up and saying what they are in addition to more complex chains of things, like my current favorite game: “Time to clean up!” Upon which, the Bug will start picking up his toys one by one, and putting them away until the living room is actually very close to being free of clutter. We play this game before every meal, so when he’s done putting away his toys, he’ll run up to me holding out his hands to be washed saying :”Pwesss, pweees” which is his best pronunciation of “PLEASE daddy stop faffing about and get me some damn food ‘fore I eat the furniture.” Never one to miss a meal, this kid.
Not bad for 17 months! I will be working with him on the following:
“Ok, time to change Daddy’s oil!”
“Ok, time to cut the grass!”
“Ok Bug, time to invent something groundbreaking so you can fund daddy’s retirement!”
As bright as he is, I’m sure it won’t be long.
But on the other hand, I’d be perfectly content to change his diaper until the end of my days and have to bathe him in perpetuity. I’d fix his meals for him and carry him when he gets tired of walking and dress him every morning if only he’d stay my little shadow, snuggled up tight while watching the Incredibles or Cars. I know I will be glowing with his every accomplishment, and proud beyond imagining watching him grow into the man he will become…half of me can’t wait for those days.
The other half, however is going to miss this sweet little boy who always gives hugs and holds my hand sometimes for no reason at all.
All my best,
If you’re not familiar with Fatherhood Friday, check it out over at Dad-Blogs.com! Every Friday, daddy bloggers from all over the web put together some thoughts on Fatherhood. Relax and see what’s on the minds of the cyber-dad! I mean, c’mon, it’s Friday. You’re only pretending to work anyhow…
This will be our first Christmas without my mom. For those of you who don’t already know, my mother passed away in the beginning of January, 2008, only having spent seven months with the Little Bug, which they both enjoyed immensely.
I have nothing but great memories of Christmas growing up. We had our own set of traditions as well as the usual suspects. My folks did the Santa thing, we alternated between turkey and ham for dinner, and I always got to open one present of my choosing on Christmas Eve (which often left me absolutely paralyzed in deciding which one to go for!) My mom would often give one a meaningful look as if to say: “That one there–that’s the one you want”. And she was always right.
I remember hearing everything from Dean Martin and Nat King Cole to Hawaiian Christmas songs this time of year, and while it was often just myself, mom and dad, the Holidays always felt busy and festive and full of life.
After I had moved out of the house, some things changed, but I could always count on the tree being up, the music playing, and of course, opening that one gift on Christmas Eve. My father and I would drink embarrassing amounts of single malt scotch while cooking and talking about cars, politics–whatever crossed our minds, while mom had a chance to relax and just watch us two banter.
My point is, with the three of us, it always managed to feel like a full house. We had a comfortable, casual Christmas that always left me full and sleepy with a bag full of leftovers and a mild hangover, and we all loved it immensely. This year, it will, for the first time, just be my dad, me and the Bug. Sure, we’ll have friends stopping by and calls to the family and whatnot, but at the end of the night, it’ll just be us. We haven’t had the easiest of times, me and my old man. Thanksgiving was tough without mom, and I think both of us are wondering what to expect from the rest of the Holiday season.
We already discussed the fact that I think we’re going to leave the tree and all the ornaments in the boxes this year. They are exactly as my mother left them, all in their places. Some of those ornaments are older than I am, some acquired along the way. Some signifying events in our lives, and some even with the names of ex girlfriends added with the eternal hope that I would marry them and start a family of my own. Dad and I just can’t bear the thought of undoing one of her last chores just yet. The Bug is nearing 18 months old, and probably won’t remember this Christmas, even if my dad and I will, so we’re OK with being treeless this year.
One thing’s for sure though. There will be plenty of presents for the little one, a few for me and dad, and mom will be present this year, in one form or another. So I’ll sip scotch with my pops, maybe give the Bug a nudge towards the one I think he should open on the Eve. I’ll close my eyes, smiling while listening intently for mom’s suggestion on which one I should go for as well.]]>
Let me begin by apologizing that I’ve been absent from the FF roundup every Friday, and that my blogging has been sporadic in general. (Insert all kinds of excuses here)
For those of you who watch Heroes, no doubt you are familar with Noah Bennet. Adopted father of Claire Bennet, the indesdtructable girl, Company man. He’s been the bad guy, the good guy, and the one who nobody can seem to figure out at times. Calm, cool, calculating. Ruthless, cunning and manipulative to no end, Noah’s dedication to his job is often ad odds with his love for his family and especially, his daughter, Claire.
Throughout the series, we find out that although his mission is to hunt and subdue those with special abilities, he is given little Claire as an infant and does what all new fathers do…
2. Fall in love
There he is, holding a baby girl who he knows eventually have to give up, and he completely falls in love with her. It changes him right at that moment, like it did to all of us. His job was the central fact of his life before this, and, while still important, it takes secondary role compared to the safety of his Claire Bear.
Something about that dichotomy is intensely intriguing to me. The ruthless, driven, stop-at-nothing Company man, who, as it turns out is a good and caring father and husband. Watching Noah’s character develop over the seasons made me wonder about just how far I would go to protect my son. His safety is my primary and overriding concern, and my first instinct at the thought of a threat to him is a roaring, feirce and almost predatory flash of barely controlled fury. A parent’s protective instincts are one of the few forces in the world that make me shrink back in fear…I would never want to be on the recieving end of that kind of wrath.
The relationship between Claire and her father seems to me (despite the fact of their circumstances) to be fairly normal, all in all. They fight, they disagree on fundamentals, she’s willfull, he’s stubborn, she disobeys, and in the end, he realizes that he can’t control her and has to trust that they did a good job raising her, and she realizes that he’s really just looking out for her the best he can.
Don’t we all go through something similar with our parents? I was willfull, disbedient, often openly rebellious. In retrospect, I was an idiot. At the time, however, I felt that my folks were out of touch, and completely ignorant of what it was to be me. I imagine that we were both right.
I admire the guy, when it comes right to it. No matter what despicable thing he’s done, or how many times Claire endangers herself…no matter what, really, he loves his daughter, and nothing can change that.]]>
My Dearest Boy:
I can’t believe you are almost fifteen months old! Despite the cliche, let me say that it seems like just yesterday I watched you enter this world, brand new. Delivered to us helpless and fragile, drawing your first breath. You weren’t scared though. You were so full of courage that day, my little warrior. Our eyes met, you saw into my soul and etched a permanent smile onto my heart that makes my every breath a laugh.
Let’s see, what has happened your first year? Quite a lot actually, and although you may not remember all of it, it all has had an effect on your life. It’s funny, really, how all these events happening around you now are the proverbial “butterlfly wings” flapping in Central Park, sending ripples through your life and effecting your future in ways we will never really understand.
You were able to spend seven months with your Grandmother (Abigail , whom I will tell you more about soon). You were the light of her life. It’ s funny though, because she never thought your dad would settle down and have a child! She used to bug me constantly about when you would be entering her life. But you guys got seven good months together, and they were the best! You’d smile at her and laugh…all she could talk about was you and how perfect you are.
You also got to know your Grandpa, who also loves you more than he can say (he’s the one who always stops by to interrupt your naps). He’s going to teach you alot, and I suggest you pay attention, because it’s all useful in one way or another. He’s my Dad, just like I’m your Dad, and he’ll invent ways to spoil you.
Your mom and I split up in those first months too. We’ll talk to you about that one day soon too, but I can tell you this with absolute certainty: You had NOTHING to do with it at all. We had our reasons, and one day when you can understand them, we’ll talk about it. The thought you should keep first and foremost in your mind is that we both love you more than anyone else in this world can, and in ways no one but us will. Little Bug, you are the sum total of everything that is best in us. And love is too small a word for what we feel about you.
I’ve watched you go from tiny and helpless to ferociously independent in this short time. You had a hard time learning to roll over, but once you did, crawling was a very short journey away. Once you could get around, you gave me a few more grey hairs, and found new ways to make my heart almost stop, but it was only for a few months or so. Then you were walking. This activity added new dimensions to how you could get into trouble. But it also added to my pride in you. Seeing you struggle to your feet, and fall down so many times made me admire your heart and bravery. You rarely cried when you fell. You just quietly got to your feet once again, with your eyes on whatever it was you were walking to. You never quit, never faltered. Just kept on getting up and with perfect faith in yourself, are mastering this miracle of controlled falling we call walking.
Watching you made me keep getting up when I didn’t think I could. Your quiet courage made me ashamed that I ever complained about anything. Thank you for that.
It’s truly astonishing how fast you are learning things too. Scary almost. I can’t wait to teach you more, and the time will come when I will show you the arts of Hand, Blade and Bow, but remember…it is those of the Pen which will be most useful, and I’ll not leave those entirely to the school systems either. It’s a difficult world we live in, and I’m sorry we could not have chosen an easier time for you to join us, but we cannot always choose our circumstances. The good news is that it’s an exciting world you live in too. You are already seeing things that your Grandfather only read about in science fiction, and you’ll see things that your Dad could only imagine. It’s in you that we place our future. It’s not my world anymore. It’s time for us to prepare it for you, and for now all I can say is that it needs change. We didn’t do all the things we wanted to, and quite frankly, we messed a lot of it up pretty badly. But I want you to know a few things:
1. We did not do it with evil intent. It was not our wish to leave the world in worse shape than it was given to us. We are trying to change it now, and I feel that we have the means to make it right by the time you take over.
2. We always thought it was us who were meant to fix things. It wasn’t us. We were stepping stones, paving the way for you. We created a global communications network and infrastructure that allows people from all over the world to share ideas and information. Not everything you see there is true, so it’s up to us to teach you how to make your own decisions and come to your own conclusions. It’s called the Web, and you will learn to leverage it in ways we never thought of. But remember–it is the greatest tool ever created by mankind, but it is only a tool. It’s the heart that beats inside you, and the passions which inflame you that drive how that tool is used. It’s your dreams about the future and your hopes for progress that allow it to be a force for good. It too, is a stepping stone, designed to help you make something new.
3. Learn all you can about everything you are interested in. You are already naturally curious. I will do everything I can to make sure you don’t lose that.
4. There are people in this world who will tell you that aggression is the proper response to most problems. They are wrong.
5. Keep getting up, no matter how many times you fall. It’s not just about you personally, it’s also to set an example for those around you…so they can see how it’s done.
6. Eat your veggies.
So, that’s it for now, my Little Warrior. I’ll be writing you more letters, and probably repeat myself a few times, but that’s what Dad’s do. I’ll also try to teach you what I know about being a man while giving you enough time to be a kid. I’ll show you the world, and keep you safe. I’ll scold you when you do things you’re not supposed to do. And most importantly, I’ll love you with every fiber of my being. Cause that, my son, is also what Daddies do.
One cannot help but notice that happiness is not common.
We have good days and bad. Life goes on around us, the ebb and flow and constant shuffle of humanity walking, running, sleeping through this agreement we call reality. Unaware that what is around us is both there…and not. Buying into the illusion that we can forget what we are. We dance to the tune woven around us of intertwined fates-chords of other lives touching ours in the periphery and creating ripples we interpret as real things…having an effect on us only because we choose.
We watch “reality” TV. We eat food with no connection to the land. We work jobs with artificial meaning. We isolate ourselves in a dreamworld built of the things which are our masters. We base our relationships on what we see in the media, and hold ourselves and our loved ones accountable for maintaining an illusionary gestalt–a set of standards which never existed in the first place. We follow the lives of celebrities more closely than we follow our families.
It’s comfortable. It’s easier to think that when we look at something, we are seeing the actual thing itself, and forget that the truth of it is that all we can see is the light reflected from it. We have never actually seen anything. We allow the miracle of sound to be fed to us by whatever the pundits at the record labels want us to hear, and call it “good”. Magazines tell us what to look like, what to buy, what to think like. Politicians control us by offering themselves as targets of our displeasure…a distraction to keep us from seeing the truth of the human situation.
So what is the truth?
I think deep down inside, we all know the truth, but are unable to get out of its way. Can we step outside mysticism and religion and social norms for a minute? Can we join hands there for long enough to see clearly? Here we can see the most basic of things for the miracles that they are. Peel back the layers and look at the truth of your being. Look. The act of seeing itself means that you live in a world of light. Think about it. Everything you see is just reflected light being bounced into your eye…and when it hits the back of the eye, it’s upside down. Your optic nerve carries that signal to your brain as an electrical signal, where your brain interprets that nonsense signal into something it can relate to and flips it right-side-up. And they say ‘seeing is believing’? Your mind is creating an illusion that we take as reality.
Sound. Speech. Music. Language and poetry. It’s impossible to not realize that all of these work the same way. Vibrations in the air interact with a membrane in your ear, creating a signal, which your brain converts to something it can relate to. That in and of itself is amazing, but when you stop to consider speech, it becomes even more beautiful. A thought originates in your mind, traveling through your nervous system, becoming a set of instructions executed in precise patterns, all to vibrate the air around you. A low-energy signal traveling through the air to be caught in another’s nervous system, and interpreted. Think on that. Speech is a signal from one mind to another. What do we choose to say? What signals are you sending?
It is said that knowledge is power. I agree, but I feel we forget that it’s not always the huge ideas and massive discoveries that make up this power. It’s the small victories of denying the ripples of what we call reality, and realizing it on our own, with the small truths, the small discoveries, the tiny miracles which make up our very core existence. Attribute them to what you have to to get through the day. God. Physics. Whatever helps you remember that you are remarkable.
The truth? Right now I feel that in these moments in which we step outside ourselves, we are all luminous, beautiful, powerful. We are connected on so many levels. We understand each other without beating one another over the head with our ideas. In this field outside wrongdoing and rightdoing, we are children again, full of wonder and magic and the power of human potential. Anything is possible and–
You. Are. Beautiful.
Let no one tell you otherwise. Especially yourself.
So. Can we live here? Can we be here always? Can we leave it all behind, forget our stories? Maybe someday. We have our moments, and for now those have to be enough. They are rare for me, but I am here now, in this very second. I am standing before you with no image, no ego. In this moment in time, however fleeting, I am laughing like a child with my arms open to the world. It won’t last long. Come find me.]]>