In my dreams I am still my father’s son - playing in the park
while his high school team practices. I don’t recall that park’s name in my
dreams. I don’t have to. My consciousness floats from the gurgling water
fountain that was too-often not working, to the little creek along the edge of
the field, to the tree where my father’s sign used to hang.
I recall the old green monster of a truck that my siblings and I
used to ride in, watching through rusted out holes in fascination as the street
rushed by. His players used to stick me in trash cans and warn me not to
move... and I remember waiting there and wondering if they would notice whether
or not I had gotten out.
I remember other soccer fields with a big rock and it was there
that I once asked a player why he didn’t shave his “hairy” legs. Still other
fields had big hills and apple trees and tall metal lights that were hollow
inside. I knocked on one of those lights one time while my mind drifted away
and I heard the ringing reverb into seeming infinity... until my father
insisted that I stop.
There were soccer fields by the woods where my bus would stop
after dropping off the high-school kids and others across the street from
summer camp. I played “indoor soccer” in gymnasiums, practiced diving headers
at camp and did pendulums across the street in the gravel lot.
Those fields were miles apart and the memories probably separated
by years but they might as well be one and the same. Names, exactness and
distinction never matter as much as emotion in my dreams.
I used to travel to games on the bus with the high school team my
father coached until I was fourteen. After the games we’d stop for food. I
remember the time I ordered a whopper for myself. Not a hamburger. A whopper.
That young-boy-grown-big memory sticks out in my mind and the emotion
associated with it is pride.
Burger King would later sponsor the high school team when I
played on it. I felt quite loyal to that company, even if I used to order a
water and fill the cup with soda when I was younger. I’m still young but Burger
King gives me acid reflux. Perspectives always
change.
The thing is, everyone seemed so old when I was young. There is
a sense of certainty associated with those memories, suggesting that the things
everyone chose to do were well-informed and right. When I was little, high
school seemed like the destination. I’m still young but high school was half a
lifetime ago and I never once felt certain of anything when I was there. And my
father never coaches soccer anymore. Perspectives always
change.
I attended the elementary school that neighbored that park and
that field with the gurgling water fountain and the tree and the creek that I
used to play in. Classmates and I wrestled on the school’s soccer fields during
recess. Five or six years later my father’s high school practices would move to
those same fields that had once witnessed so much of my boyhood tumbles.
When I was in high school we built a goal-sized kicking board at
that elementary school and I would sometimes jog there, dribbling a ball the
whole way. I figured the kicking board would last forever and I’d master my
abilities using it. We moved soon after that and I played most of my own high
school career for the team that had always been my father’s greatest rival. I’m
still young but that kicking board was torn down years ago. Perspectives always change.
This world is a strange place. This life is a queer existence.
We seem to spend much of it either dreaming of things that have long since
passed or longing for things and future ages that will fail to fulfill as
imagined when we get there. Too little time is spent truly enjoying that which
actually is. It’s only in moments and patches of clarity that I seem capable of
lifting my head above the water and looking around at the landscape of things –
capable of living life in a manner that sets out to achieve the things I would
list as most important.
When I consider what matters in this world, I am drawn to a
simplicity that goes beyond a goal of simply wanting to want less. It is about
more than mere anti-materialism. Wanting a different life than the one I often
choose isn’t a testament to dissatisfaction. I’m actually quite happy. One can
be happy with life and still want to refine it. There’s ample room for more consciousness
and awareness and intent in my life.
Perspectives don’t just change over years, they can change in a
moment. When I get to the end of the day and consider what occupied my mind,
the list is rarely made up of things that carry real import. Somehow, the
hustle and bustle of life distracts so completely that it renders progress
along the intended path impossible. Minor daily incremental misuse of energy
adds up, too.
No child wants to grow up and be a drug addict. Many do. No
child wants to grow up and be a murderer. Many do. But those examples are
extreme. A simpler example is that no child wants to grow up to be rightly
described as untrustworthy or to become desensitized to the suffering of others
or to be a womanizer or an alcoholic. There are many and more obvious examples
of personality traits, habits and moral failings we all begin to internalize
and exhibit to one degree or another.
The point is that nobody wants to have these flaws, we just grow
into them – whatever they are – over time and fail to find that minor moment of
needed self-correction before a habit is formed. Perspectives
change. Gradually. Daily. Unnoticed.
We are all born noble, yet imperfect. Mistakes will be made.
Personality flaws will come to be. The goal is to, at every moment, (or as many
of them as can be managed), seek after those things that would bring one’s “better
self” closer. This is the mindfulness that I find elusive.
In the immediacy of everyday life, daily concerns pre-empt
ultimate concerns... ultimate concerns which are taken for granted and not
thought of consciously for days on end. I can look back over my life and see
how my pursuits led me towards things that I no longer value. Were such
pursuits wasted time? Not necessarily. Such is life, I think, and I don’t
regret climbing monkey bars as a child or playing cards at coffee shops as a
young adult.
The real question is how much of this is inherent in life... how
much is of lasting value in terms of personal and interpersonal growth and learning...
and how much is truly a pastime becoming a waste of time. The real question is
how much I don’t notice – how much of my life do I fail to think is an issue
because it’s easy to judge oneself by the standard of others instead of a more
perfect standard. I’m still young but I imagine that I’ve truly wasted plenty
of time.
I think of my own past and future but I also think of the future
my son will have and the role I play in his foundational perspectives on life. Perspectives change, true, but they
change by building on top of existing frameworks of thought. This life is
difficult. A healthy perspective can
go a long way towards navigating it effectively.
One of the interesting things about navigating life effectively
is that one can only do it if he has a belief about the nature and purpose of
life. What is the goal of life? One’s own personal answer determines whether or not one has lived
it effectively.
Despite that we cling to them, I suspect that he goal of life is
other than the accumulation of wealth in money, experience or comfort and I
don’t believe for one moment that the goal of life is continued or perpetuation
of life.
The goal of life is like love... or maybe it is love. Love is
not easily definable or encapsulated. It is most often associated with marriage
or feelings of longing and lust. Nevertheless, I love my son. I love my
parents. I love my siblings. I love lamp. Each of those loves is different
because love is simply an attraction of the spirit. It is unique to each
combination of two things. It is only known and defined as experienced.
Life is about growth of spirit - not just in terms of a soul but
also that intangible essence which radiates from within when we are passionate
about something. The goal of life is to grow one’s spirit in both ways and the
exactness of that goal must be self-determined and pursued.
As an early parent, my thoughts on the subject seem to revolve around
and return to both God and shared experience. Our purest form of existence is
in worship of God but that worship need not be exclusive and direct. Service to
others is worship. Work is worship. Endeavoring to build and shape society and
family and community - this is worship.
The sidekick wife and I decided a long time ago to write letters to our son. I struggled with this because what I want to say isn't encapsulated easily in words. I loved my son before I knew him. I want him to become a vibrant, dynamic force in the world. There are many wishes and desires for his life that I hold dear but I've learned that those perspectives will largely change over time and in some ways I wonder... what's the point in expressing something that I won't agree with, necessarily, in the future? I can imagine many different lives for my son to live but the reality is that none of them really matter. The events of life are meaningless. The intentions
and efforts of life define everything about true reality.
I return to thoughts
of foundational perspectives on this world... but what should those perspectives
be?
I have a jumble of unconnected things that seem to matter in
my head. There is joy in nature. Qualities of humanity are reflected in a
wooded, quiet place that one can only find by detaching himself from others.
The things in life that we’ve never tried before are the things that hold the
most knowledge of who we are, because new experience teaches us about
ourselves. Nothing is ever static unless we choose it to be. Serving others,
learning about others, truly seeking to understand the whys and hows that guide
other people as they attempt to navigate the same world with the same pitfalls
– these are actions that are of value. They’re more results than the impetus,
however.
In the end, the foundational perspective of life that
matters is a recognition of who we are – that we are noble beings created by
God. I can imagine many outcomes that would seemingly bring me joy in this
world. I want my son to be intelligent, caring, to impact his community, to
find love, to give love, to exhibit a multitude of virtues. All of those
outcomes would bring me joy... but if they don’t stem from a recognition of his
true self, they’re only partial parenting victories.
Some perspectives change like rays of the sun emanating from
the center. All are progressions forward. Only the direction is different but that direction completely changes the path the ray will take as it moves out into the universe.
Others perspectives don’t change and I guess that those are
the perspectives that truly matter. This world is not the end. It is a step
along the way. Given my belief that the next world is spiritual in nature,
spiritual capacity and qualities are what I'd like to assist my son to focus on throughout his life. In the end, his own investigation of reality may lead him to believe other than I do... but if his beliefs about this world arise from a true attempt to consider life, self, the possibility of a higher being and what that means about how he should live... then whatever he chooses is a result of his relationship with God, no matter what form that relationship takes over time.
Everything else in
this world stems from that and there are near infinite directions it can take a
person. In looking back at my own life, I am left with the realization that my son's immediate concerns aren't overly important. He will play and he will grow. He may ultimately choose to be an athlete, an engineer, an accountant, a pioneer, a teacher. He may change his mind and go in a new direction, grow in a new direction. After all, his perspectives on life will evolve as my own did.
All of his potential directions are of value if they emanate from that relationship with God. I’d be happy with any of them.
All of his potential directions are of value if they emanate from that relationship with God. I’d be happy with any of them.
