“There are no limits, only plateaus.”
- Bruce Lee
I’ve become aware of how angry I am in the last few days. I’ve been dreaming of conflict, and it’s seeping into my work. It occupies my mental landscape. It is this plateau’s obstacle and it stands in my way like a hate-filled monster. I have no doubt that I will best it, not through conflict or domination, but with surrender. The monster is just a frightened kid.
The monster is my dad. He left ten years ago, and I haven’t seen since. A third of my life without a father. I just looked into the abyss.
The rage and pain that hibernates somewhere south of my heart is the memory of him dissolving our family. I haven’t had the tools to deal with this tragedy for ten years. It’s only the last week that I feel I need to reach out. It’s painful that it will have to be me to make the first move, but I expect nothing from him. I am twice the man at half his age.
A son needs his father, maybe even more in his 30’s. In my 30s I will start a business, launch a writing career, and probably start a family. It sure would help to talk to someone who’s walked the road.
I can’t brush this aside any longer, I’m starting to look like him. I don’t want to hear that one day he died, and wonder what I missed because I clung to pride.
I’m terrified — the surest sign to turn and face this.