Scarred not Scared

How To Be A Midlife Dad Without Going Postal: A Manual

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

No money back, no effn guarantees

Hello? Is this thing on? Can anyone hear me?

Tripping along, living and loving, making creating destroying digesting. Gettin' comfortable with some aspects, some connections, then WHAM it hits: wonder of the grey kind. Shadows, doubt, disbelief. Can it be? Do fears come true by imagining them? Do we distort our own reality if we let it germinate/gestate within us? Do we want our fears to come true so we can whimper and slink? How? Why, when the joy of succeeding with integrity is so crystalline, so soaring and bright?

There are no guarantees, not even that you will make it across the street in one piece. Are your children on the path to good and happy? Will they treat others as full humans and feel real joy? Will your smear of life bring remembrance of love and a sadness for what's missing? Have you changed lives? Have you tried?

Our futures cannot be stopped, they come to us. We welcome them, no matter the color.
We birth them then decide to keep them or try again. Divergence.

Fear twists, begging to be mocked. Yet the mind won't let it go completely--why this love affair? Why limit? Blame yourself? Your parents? Fate? That sour bologna?

Even though I can't escape fear completely, it is only allowed visitation, not cohabitation. I know I can kick it out and that the sun will touch my skin again. I am prepared, armed and resilient. I know I cannot prevent the Change in others.

But I also know that no matter what pain falls on my head, clouds break. They always have, eventually. The music brings tears, the hot sting of joyful pain.

It is to live and love life that matters. That's all there really is for any of us.

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