The times change and you will change too. The cycles will seem the same, with a chaotic degree of consistency, but sameness is illusory because life is change. Embrace this truth early on as you bathe in the moonlight glow preparing for slumber. If the sun should rise on who you were yesterday then bound in shackles is the new man trying to rise from your bed. He’s caged in who you were. And he will stay there with as many others. They will weigh you down until you cut them free. If you fail to cut them free they will crush you under the weight of an unbearable burden. You must let the old die. It’s death and then the tree. That’s the order of things. No real way around it I suppose else you’re just a semblance of a man, soul long gone, wired to life hoping the plug doesn’t get pulled. Don’t keep trying to make the new you like the old you just because you can’t let go. This will bring you no end of suffering. Show me an acorn that in the fullness of time is still an acorn and I will show you unfulfilled purposes. Show me a man who in the fullness of time lives in the unforgiveness of the past and I will show you a fruitless life. I have been that man and son it’s miserable. If you find yourself like that reach in your toolbox for your two most important tools, love and forgiveness respectively. I am trying so hard to leave them there for you. Love yourself and loving others will come, in that order only, don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise. Forgive yourself and yours will be a life that is in tune. Forgive others and yours will be a life that rises as a missing note to complete a vast harmony.
As time passes you will bear the scars of yesterdays and yesteryears, on your face, on your hands, and the deepest ones, well, they are there where you can’t see. They are the most dangerous. Keep vigilant watch on them being faithful to never forget they are there, not for the purpose of grudges, but because they need sunlight to heal. Short of this you will have crippling infections like storms that plague your soul. They will whip you about as a small boat on the sea and you will not know from whence the wind comes. A scar is a scar because it healed and while the remembrance stays the wound is gone. Don’t open them, you know the wounds, don’t open them again. Look upon the scars and remember as though it were the distant past from the first of a thousand lives that you’ve lived with this one being the thousandth. Look on them like a history book. Read, remember, cry, learn, laugh, and then let go. If someone else opens them then I’m sorry. Come to me for a warm embrace and I’ll cry with you and we’ll bring recovery swift as it can come. But a scar is a scar because you were living and trying and doing the best you could. And plenty of times because you were being stupid. Learn from those times or they will be complete losses of breath from a very limited supply.
But hell, better scars than none at all. That’s what I say whether or not you care to hear it. Better that than a stagnated artery and death by inaction. Death by lethargy, death by fear, death by becoming what you don’t want to be. Who you really are is in you, way inside. The true you, the whole you, the you that you love and want to be, the person you catch glimpses of in your dreams. You’ve got to lead him to the front door.
Make damn sure it isn’t locked.
Love,
Dad
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