Rollin' On the River
Dad,
January 25, the anniversary of your death six years ago came and went without conscious recognition this year. I was working that day, enjoying the afterglow of an extraordinary weekend. I can imagine your being fine with that. You were never one to stand on formality. Also, letting go of you is something that I must continue to do. I still carry too much of your stuff, both literally and emotionally.
This past year has brought a new house, my son as room mate, the death of my first wife, the reckless conclusion of a relationship with a good woman, a new round of confronting personal defects and spiritual growth. My gratitude for all I have, starting with my life, goes out to you and Mom - thanks.
Part of my journey, my therapy, is about "re-parenting" myself. In this process, I have conversations, out loud into a tape recorder - my phone actually. It's not easy creating this new paradigm of inner bonding between the "child" in me and the "adult" who cares for that child. When the "adult" is doing his job and listening, then making the right choices in caring, it's sometimes like a visit with you.
Confronting false beliefs that limit my ability to make wise choices is bringing into vague focus my early years with Mom. What's emerging from the cellar of memory is painful situations that left me with messages like, "if she's angry, it's because you're bad." These are old, bullshit tape loops that are now being hauled into the sunlight, so they can return to dust where they belong.
As I continue on the path of spiritual growth, I think about you - on the one hand, how limited you were in matters spiritual; on the other, how willing you were to try new things and seek out personal growth. Being able to share some of my revelations in regard to matters spiritual might have been ....well, on second thought ...well on third thought. Good time to stop thinking perhaps.
I love you. You know that. Thanks again for being my father.
Paul
January 25, the anniversary of your death six years ago came and went without conscious recognition this year. I was working that day, enjoying the afterglow of an extraordinary weekend. I can imagine your being fine with that. You were never one to stand on formality. Also, letting go of you is something that I must continue to do. I still carry too much of your stuff, both literally and emotionally.
This past year has brought a new house, my son as room mate, the death of my first wife, the reckless conclusion of a relationship with a good woman, a new round of confronting personal defects and spiritual growth. My gratitude for all I have, starting with my life, goes out to you and Mom - thanks.
Confronting false beliefs that limit my ability to make wise choices is bringing into vague focus my early years with Mom. What's emerging from the cellar of memory is painful situations that left me with messages like, "if she's angry, it's because you're bad." These are old, bullshit tape loops that are now being hauled into the sunlight, so they can return to dust where they belong.
As I continue on the path of spiritual growth, I think about you - on the one hand, how limited you were in matters spiritual; on the other, how willing you were to try new things and seek out personal growth. Being able to share some of my revelations in regard to matters spiritual might have been ....well, on second thought ...well on third thought. Good time to stop thinking perhaps.
I love you. You know that. Thanks again for being my father.
Paul
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