TweetThis weekend had a profound impact on me.
I spent the weekend exploring spirituality and what it means through the lens of how I experience myself, those in my life and spirit/universe/God. Whatever you want to call it. Now I am not a practicing religious man but I do believe in spirit and do believe that there is something much greater than me that is supporting, loving, guiding, challenging, and watching over me. Most times when I connect to spirit I believe that it’s a higher power, something unexplainable. Most recently I am very clear that it is my father.
Tapping me on the shoulder.
“Bob, I am here, let me be here with you, allow me, know me.”
It’s becoming very clear that this year is the year I take on the process of brining my father back to life. Now, I don’t mean some voodoo Frankenstein cult stuff but actually bringing his memory back. Remembering the man he was and exploring the man he still is in my life although he may not be physically with me to validate it. Exploring and celebrating his memory. Celebrating and loving my father.
You see, for a very long time I resisted the memory of my father, didn’t feel like it was important, too painful, and something I was “over”. I didn’t need my dad. I survived without him. I’m 43 now, what’s the point in digging this pain up? I have a wonderful step-father named Jim and we have a wonderful relationship. So why would I tear open wounds from a 7-year-old child.
…and then it came to me.
It’s not a wound anymore. Now yes, I still get sad when I think of my dad at times but that is just one part of full expression in celebrating the man that I remember and the man that I am half made of. In meditation today, it became 100% even more clear to me. It’s no longer a wound. It’s a possibility.
…and then my dad came to me.
He came to me and reached out his arms. As I reached back he actually transformed and turned into me and said, “To resist me, is to resist yourself.” “Follow your heart and trust that you will be ok, as I am here.” “You are me.” “Push your boundaries limitlessly, dream big and bold and through others, I will always be available to you.”
I experienced this clear as day. Like he was me and I was him.I’ve touched on this before but by resisting him and his memory I have been resisting myself… and so much more. I wasn’t aware of how I have been resisting a number of areas in my life.
I have been resisting an intimate vulnerable relationship with my brother.
I have been resisting forgiveness in how my childhood was experienced.
I have been resisting the experience of family.
I have been resisting becoming a father myself.
I have been resisting sharing vulnerably with my mother.
I am so grateful for this experience and the transformational work that I have had the courage and support to take on. There is no way to accurately explain the gift and miracle that happens in my experience of the work. The levels and depths it gets us to. The humanity it awakens. The love it ultimately confronts us with and the choice it ultimately it presents us.
To be a hero for our past, or to be a hero for our future possibility.
Today I am a hero for the future. A future in which my dad’s memory is celebrated, loved, encouraged, and felt. The possibility of connecting with him, feeling him with me, and allowing all of it. Every single fucking bit of it.
Dad, thanks for continuing to teach me, and for loving me.
I am a hero for your memory.
What are you a hero for?