Tag: kids

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A New Pilgrimage

A few months ago I watched a movie called The Way. The movie is about a man who’s son was killed just as he was beginning a pilgrimage in France called “el Camino de Santiago,” or the Way of St James. While he is picking up his son’s ashes, something comes over him and he decides to take the pilgrimage himself and to bring his son’s ashes with him. While on this journey, he decides to scatter his son’s ashes at different spots. He meets new people, some of which join him on his journey, others merely flit in and then out again, like shooting stars in the night sky. It’s a great movie and I found it truly inspiring for a variety of reasons.

One reason is that I feel as though I’ve always been on a pilgrimage of some sort or an other. I’ve always been a thinker of things, looking for something, trying to explain life. Or at least my life. I realize that what I’m looking for is internal, though I’ve certainly looked for it in external things. Alcohol, drugs, music, sex, you name it, I’ve pretty much tried it. But aren’t we all looking for something? Could be. Sometimes it seems to me like a lot of people aren’t looking for anything. Or perhaps they have already found it. Or maybe they’ve given up. I feel like I’ve always had questions about life, that I wanted to know more. But I’ve limited myself. I decided earlier this year that I wanted to travel more and that I’d start this year. It’s important to me, important to my life that it happens. I realize that I’m at a crossroads in my life and I find it funny because, even though I’m at a crossroads, it feels like there is really only one path for me to take, the one that leads to growth and change. So far this year I’ve already taken two trips to San Diego, which were great, but I lived there for so long it’s like going home, it’s not the same. I also took a trip to Florida to visit my parents. Once again, great, but not new.

I’ll admit it. I want to travel to places to which I’ve already been. Some of them are places that I went when I was a child and I want to see them with adult eyes, and maybe introduce my son to them as well. There’s some nostalgia there, but for some reason I feel like going to an old place first will help jump start me to visiting new places. And I want to see new places in the world, and, even more important, I want my son to see them. I want him to know that there is more to life than what’s in the U.S. I want him to know there is a great big world out there and, really, our job is to try and make that world a better place. I have fears and I have dreams. I have spent a lot of my life ruled by my fears and it’s gotten me to where I am. It’s not a bad place, it’s been a struggle at times. There have been good times, some not so good. I’ve grown and changed. Haven’t we all? But I still feel like there is more to this world and I want to see it. I want to show that world to my son. But in order to do that, I need to be able to see it myself. And to truly do that, I need to grow.

One of the things I found so amazing about The Way is that I had never heard of Camino de Santiago. I had heard about the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and many smaller trails throughout America, but not about the Camino de Santiago. It made me realize how little of this world I really know. After all these years, I have finally just began to see how sheltered I’ve been. I’m a middle-age, middle-class, white male who lives in America. I am the epitome of privilege. I’ve spent part of my life being ashamed of that reality and part of my life accepting it. I can’t change what I am, but I can try and change how I see things. I can try and see things from other people’s perspectives, to understand their perspective. I see travel as one way to help me do that…while also accepting the very real fact that being able to travel itself is a privilege. Down the rabbit hole we go… I guess what I’m really getting at is that the best way I know how to change the world is to try and be a better person and to try to raise my son to be a better person as well. I know that there are many ways to do that, that travel is just one of them, but it’s a journey I plan to begin.

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First School Play

My son’s first play turned out to be harder than I thought it would be. As a matter of fact, I didn’t expect it to be hard at all, but it was emotional. To be there, so close, but still separated. My ex doesn’t want me around, she barely speaks to me unless necessary. So I’m sitting two rows back from my son as he plays with my ex, her mom, her brother and some other of her friends before the show. I’m alone and it’s painful to be near him, but not actually with him. But I’m here and willing to go through that pain because it’s not about me, it’s about him. My wonderful son. He’s awesome and adorable. I guess like anyone would describe their kids, but he’s mine so he’s special to me. I sit here with tears in my eyes. I can finally see why some divorced men would avoid this, it feels like failure. Like I’m failing to raise my son. I’m trying, but right now, in this moment, this is as far as I can get. I suppose I could force myself into the situation, but is it worth the hell I’ll get from my ex? I don’t know, because it will be hell. So I endure. I feel like there’s a bubble in my chest that’s about to burst, and if it does, the tears will flow. So I hold it together.

I watch my son jump into his mom’s lap and she gives him a raspberry on his cheek. He loves her and I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to take that relationship away from him, it’s important. At the same time I feel like part of that is being taken away from me.

Pain turns to anger. I feel like I’m being pushed to the sidelines of my son’s life. Is this what it’s going to be like as my son grows up? Always watching from the outside because his mom doesn’t want me near? I breathe through the anger. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m there for him when he needs me. I’m here, I’ve let him know. His need of emotional support is more important than my desire to not feel emotional pain. I’ve learned how to manage my emotions as an adult. Now is the time to help him, to be there for him. To the best of my ability I will ALWAYS be there for him. I can’t hold onto the anger. I won’t. It’s toxic. I have more important things/places to put my energy. Holding onto anger is toxic for me and I won’t live there. I will choose love. I will love my son, I will love my friends and family. To the best of my ability, I will even try to love my ex. That’s a tough one, but I’ll try. I’ll try because it’s not about me, it’s about a small child I chose to help bring into this world. My child. My son. I’ll do it because he’s worth it, and love is the answer.

My son’s part of the play ends. I’m so proud of him. He was singing so loud I could hear him over the other kids. I don’t know if I’m supposed to or not, but I’m proud of him all the same. I watch as my son runs back to his mom and gives her a hug. Then something amazing happens.

My son looks to the back and says, “Daddy? Dad? Where’s my dad?” I raise my voice over the crowd and say, “Right here, buddy!” He sees me and his face lights up. He runs the two rows back and gives me a big hug. I hug back and tell him he did a great job, that he should be proud of himself. He jumps into my lap, his back snuggled against my chest. I wrap my arms around him, letting my cheek rest softly against the top of his head and we watch some more of the play. This is why I come and sit through my own discomfort. If I weren’t able to shift through my own emotions, to deal with them in a healthy manner, I would have missed out on this moment.

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Little Moments – 500 Words a Day – Day 26

My son tagged me in the nuts with a boomerang today. Now that I have your attention, I really have nothing else to say. Well, that’s not really true. I’ve been thinking about how much our life is made up of these little moments. We do remember the big things, like graduation, marriage, deaths, births and all that other crap. But really, what is life made of? It’s the small moments in between that are the bulk of our lives, and those are the ones that really matter. At least in my mind. Will my son remember if I’m at his kindergarten graduation? Maybe, maybe not. High school graduation? Much more likely. But is that as important as today, the day he tagged my in the nuts? In a way “yes” and in a way “no.” He may not remember today, since it will blend in with all the rest of the days and, quite frankly, it wasn’t caught on camera. I mean, if it had been, Americas Funniest Videos here we come. But it wasn’t, and I still feel like it was a great day. Funny isn’t it? In Jr High or High School I definitely would not have considered a day that I was tagged in the nuts as being one of the best days. But as an adult, with a son, it was good. I’ll also let you know that it wasn’t that bad of a tag, just good enough to get a laugh. You know what I mean, at least you guys do. I’m not sure if that’s something that a woman can really understand. I sometimes have trouble thinking about the time I get to spend with my son. I calculated it once and realized I get about 15% of time with my son, which means that when I am with him, it’s precious time spent. I’ve already turned down jobs that I could take because they wanted me to work on Sundays, meaning I’d get to spend less time with him. I’m not OK with that. Not too sure where this is going, but I do know that I treasure all the time I get with my son. Sometimes I feel more connected, sometimes less. Sometimes we do more stuff outside,  and sometimes we just hang around inside playing video games. In the end I know it’s really about spending time with him, and not just bull shit time. Back to little moments. How do you carve out little moments to spend with the people you love? Life can move by so fast that it can be hard to do so. Or you can mix up doing things together with actually spending quality time together. I remember a long time ago how a therapist pointed out that going to the gym with my significant other wasn’t necessarily spending quality time. In this case it was really more about checking stuff off our to do list. That’s not quality time and doesn’t add to the relationship. Then again, it’s really about the intent behind it. That’s what it boils down to. What is your intent in life?

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Inspiration – 500 Words a Day – Day 11

Inspiration. What is it? Where does it come from? How do we inspire others? How do we inspire ourselves? I was thinking about this last night as I was typing “f f f f” to meet my 500 word quota. And I don’t like the word quota because it implies this writing is something I “have” to do, and I don’t find that very inspiring.

Back to the topic.

I was thinking about this topic because I wasn’t feeling very inspired when I was trying to write last night. I felt plenty inspired throughout the day and came up with several topics I wanted to write on, but then I sat down to write and…nothing. While I realize this experiment is all about writing even when you don’t feel like it, I’ve been getting frustrated because I’ve been inspired to write more. Let me explain that. I get inspired to write more often, several times a day actually, but I don’t have the time in my schedule to sit down at that moment and write. And that has happened for several days in a row now.

Even now. As I sit writing this, my son is watching TV. I don’t really have any issue with him watching TV, but I do feel a twist-your-guts-into-knots guilt that I’m not hanging with him. On the other hand, I also want to set an example for him to do what he loves, and to make time for doing what he loves. It’s a lesson I’m still struggling to learn and I’d like him to learn it earlier in life. Am I his inspiration? Or is he mine? Children can be funny like that. So can life.

I do know what I find inspiring. Words. Quotes that make me think about life in a positive way. Words that enlighten me. Pictures of people doing amazing things. Things that I only dream about, but also could see myself doing. Seems like a funny combination. What else? Beauty. A beautiful scene of nature. A picture of a beautiful woman. And a picture of a beautiful woman, doing amazing things, out in nature with some inspiring words on it? Well, that gets me all kinds of inspired.

That’s what this blog is really about. Inspiration. To inspire others the way others have inspired me. But I also want it to be real. I don’t travel the world. I no longer live near a beautiful beach. I’m not a great photographer.

And yet I still see beauty all around me. I try and document what I see. I try and get my thoughts out, because I do think about some great shit. So here I am, putting some writing out there. Inspiring? I don’t know, you’ll have to tell me. But I do know it’s honest and true.

I like that, too. I guess that’s another thing I find inspiring. People who can be honest about their lives. Those who are living lives that aren’t all beer and skittles, but who are still willing to share their lives, their struggles. That’s what life is all about, to be willing to live life through all our struggles. To share these struggles with others, to be able to say, “I went through this tough physical/emotional/mental time and I…lived.” To pass that message on to others who may be going through a similar time, who may be about to give up. That’s what inspiration is all about.