My grandfather, the most influential man in my youth, was a quiet person. I remember him sitting in his chair, watching TV, smiling. I remember him working in the garden, riding his tractor, driving the entire family to church in his beat up old Suburban... all Silently smiling. I don't remember a single word of wisdom uttered. But the Power if his Silence had an indelible effect on me. He always seemed content.
I bring this up here, in my brand spankin' new blog, to remind myself where I came from. When I see myself shut down when faced with fear and uncertainty, I assume that same Silence, only stripped of the Power. As a man who spent his first decade without a father, I have had to learn much on my own. My childhood went something like this... My mother, my older brother and myself were a poorly oiled machine, solely focused on survival. And survive we did. Like prisoners of war, we held on until the fighting stopped and peace was declared. When I was 12, she married a stand up guy who I now call Dad. From then on, I was raised to be a sensitive, intelligent, caring man. But the damage had already been done. I had unwittingly relegated myself to a perfectly normal life of silent survival.
Then I met Rarechild. And my life changed.
Then RC met Charlie. And my life has changed again.
Charlie is more than a great guy. He's a force of nature. Just like RC. Just like me. He has a great big whole heart. He is obviously a man who was taught by a skilled hand to do much more than simply survive. Next to him, I feel broken.
This situation, this immense tangle of love, is a heavy load. And while my relationship with RC is easily strong enough to bear that weight, my relationship with myself has proved to be less so. The jealousy that I have always felt nearly immune to has made the cracks in my foundation split wide and crumble. And I have been standing here, silently staring at this failing structure, saying "I'm broken. That's so sad. And
now my sadness is affecting the people I love. I'm pushing them away. That's even sadder."
That, my friends, is the fastest way possible to remove yourself from whatever moment you are in.
I could have lived my entire life without ever needing to fill those cracks with fresh mortar, seal it all up and protect it from the harsh weather; choosing instead to live in the house of someone stronger. And that life would have been just fine. I would have lived and loved and carried on... just fine. But this life is much richer. Much more painful and fulfilling. Much more suited to a force of nature.
The revelation here, my fine cohorts, is one of beginning to understand the work one must do to be whole. One must fall apart, repeatedly, and have the strength and support to rebuild, repeatedly.
I have that.
And there is much work to do.
Thanks for reading.
I bring this up here, in my brand spankin' new blog, to remind myself where I came from. When I see myself shut down when faced with fear and uncertainty, I assume that same Silence, only stripped of the Power. As a man who spent his first decade without a father, I have had to learn much on my own. My childhood went something like this... My mother, my older brother and myself were a poorly oiled machine, solely focused on survival. And survive we did. Like prisoners of war, we held on until the fighting stopped and peace was declared. When I was 12, she married a stand up guy who I now call Dad. From then on, I was raised to be a sensitive, intelligent, caring man. But the damage had already been done. I had unwittingly relegated myself to a perfectly normal life of silent survival.
Then I met Rarechild. And my life changed.
Then RC met Charlie. And my life has changed again.
Charlie is more than a great guy. He's a force of nature. Just like RC. Just like me. He has a great big whole heart. He is obviously a man who was taught by a skilled hand to do much more than simply survive. Next to him, I feel broken.
This situation, this immense tangle of love, is a heavy load. And while my relationship with RC is easily strong enough to bear that weight, my relationship with myself has proved to be less so. The jealousy that I have always felt nearly immune to has made the cracks in my foundation split wide and crumble. And I have been standing here, silently staring at this failing structure, saying "I'm broken. That's so sad. And
now my sadness is affecting the people I love. I'm pushing them away. That's even sadder."
That, my friends, is the fastest way possible to remove yourself from whatever moment you are in.
I could have lived my entire life without ever needing to fill those cracks with fresh mortar, seal it all up and protect it from the harsh weather; choosing instead to live in the house of someone stronger. And that life would have been just fine. I would have lived and loved and carried on... just fine. But this life is much richer. Much more painful and fulfilling. Much more suited to a force of nature.
The revelation here, my fine cohorts, is one of beginning to understand the work one must do to be whole. One must fall apart, repeatedly, and have the strength and support to rebuild, repeatedly.
I have that.
And there is much work to do.
Thanks for reading.