I’ve been doing my share of thinking lately. There has been a weight resting firmly on my thought bubble. I stop short of saying “birthdays at my age” but something about my last handful have left me heavily self-reflexive. To be honest, I’m not sure where I want to start here. Am I worried about life? Death? My family? Career? Who I am? What is my “role” in life?
No? Yes? I don’t know.
I wrote this trite passage on Facebook they day after about how we’re all floating in a sea and how as we move through it, it defines us. Some people got, maybe, but did I?
I’ve been wrestling with emotions like a tired willow in a strong blow the last few days. Thinking a lot about my father. Who I am as a dad, a husband. My family in general, where they fit in my life. Should I call my brother “just to talk?” I feel as though I’ve had ‘youngest child syndrome’ for far too long. The part of me where I’m right no matter what my feelings are and even if you soft-step them, damned you are. I’m not right just because I grit my teeth harder.
I do a lot of moaning about how others don’t seem to do enough self-reflection. That finger can and should be pointed at me; maybe something about how if I point one finger, three point right back. A lot of learning is done in trying to teach my kid about morality, feelings, and the world. Who am I to teach someone if I don’t have it all together?
Maybe growing up is being able to admit many of your stalwart stances aren’t on a foundation as solid as you thought. That maybe for all this time you’ve been wrong. Maybe they aren’t the foolish or simple one, but the asshole, the jerk. I’m not so great, or the best – but now it’s time to admit it, say sorry and try to do better. Less criticizing and more understanding, just be kinder.
I have to take my first real piece of advice from my son:”people gotta do what they gotta do.”
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