Tag: happiness

My Little Girl

August 25, 2022 / Tom

There she was, my little girl, getting set to leave me.

Yeah, I know. As the cliche goes, she wasn’t really leaving me. But she was. It was her time, and she was grasping it. It was a moment she had worked hard for, and she was taking it. I was the nest and she was flying away. All I could do is watch.

Was it really, though, all I could do? Of course not. As a man in love with a woman, in this case a Dad in love with his Daughter, I could do quite a bit. I could encourage her. I could help her. When she looked back, I could be there. I could offer a whisper, or a shout, or I could just be silent. This wasn’t about me, so whatever decibel level she needed ,she would have. Otherwise, I’d keep my mouth closed and my heart open.

Her older sister had left too. That was different, though. Her sister stayed close to home, so was within a short drive should she need me. My Little Girl, in the truest form of her being her, decided to go out of State, a not-so-short 7 hour drive from home. This was her toughness showing itself, her badassness claiming ownership of her life, and her independence shouting “I will let you know when I need you.” It was all the things I loved about My Little Girl, and all the things the Dad in me wanted to change even as the heart in me refused to try.

I always just wanted her to be her. Nothing more, nothing less.

The Day Had Come

So now it was the day. The day I had both loathed and looked so forward to. This was the day when I could no longer protect her easily or be there quickly if she called. The day when all of my admiration of this warrior woman would mix with all my regrets as a Dad, when all of my hopes for My Little Girl meshed with all my fears of her departure. The day when she was to give birth to herself, and her parents would become more of passive spectators than of active participants.

I stood in amazement as she was born, first crowning and then flying out of the womb. I watched her fight for life her first 10 days of it, and stood in awe of this baby who was somehow strong, independent and never willing to give up. Memories sprouted of when she would push her older sister around on a Playskool trike even before she could walk on her own. Yeah, this was a badass.

I can remember those moments when she’d hide behind her mom or me, afraid of new parts of the world showing themselves. Then one day she took off, facing the world fearlessly with a field hockey stick in hand. She transformed from the shy girl who would never talk to anyone into a kick-ass champion almost overnight. This had been her way since the day of her birth, and this would be her way on the day she gave birth to herself.

I know this was not really the day she had given birth to herself. It was, however, the day I saw her as a woman, and as someone I knew would do well as long as the world did not try to fuck with her. She had birthed herself long before I saw it and in the gradual stages that led to this day. In this moment, though, my eyes were fully opened even if shrouded by tears.

The Lesson Learned

Like any good lesson, this one keep evolving and showing itself. She’s gone, but still here. She calls and texts and send pictures in her time, in her way, just like always. I am not there to protect her, but perhaps she doesn’t need my protection as much as she once did. I’m not there to help her when she calls, but I’ve realized she rarely called for help. She has always helped herself, and figured it out, and proved to us all that she is capable of being…her.

I’ve come to realize that my fear was not of her leaving the nest, but of my failing to be there should she need me. I feared not being needed, not that she wasn’t capable. My fears had little to do with her, they were all about what I saw as my own shortcomings.

Just as she has since the moment I knew she existed, she continues to teach me lessons. Her older sister started the process and her younger brother keeps it going, each of them teaching me in unique ways. Just like her sister, neither is my little girl anymore but both will always be My Little Girl. My son will always be My Boy, no matter how big and strong he gets. That’s the thing about being a Dad. As we get older we had better get wiser, or we will simply cease to exist. It’s also true of being a human. Sometimes we’re frail. Sometimes we’re even pathetic. Yet we are blessed with the power to learn lessons, to effect change in ourselves, and to change the world in our newness. We are fucking powerful that way, and sometimes…well usually…all we need is something to love to show us the way to greatness.

A Notion of Twin Flames (Elephant Journal)

October 4, 2021 / Tom

The Notion of Twin Flames Uniting

Recently, I was asked by Elephant Journal to revisit an article I’d written for them a few years ago. The article was about Twin Flames meeting, and was based on an actual event in my life. EJ had asked me to revise it to fit a tighter word count, and I was happy to oblige.

As I read the article a few times and tried to edit, I became acutely aware that it was impossible to shorten. There was only one way to accurately tell that story and it demanded much more attention. The rewrite must be less about that story and more about the lessons learned from the experience.

Each experience I’ve had in my life has brought me to a point of understanding. Such experiences have brought me a strength and resilience I’ve needed as I’ve aged, and an understanding of my own capacity to love and, if necessary, to lose. I have learned to value the light of good relationships, to not run from companionship, and to appreciate every moment of joy brought into this life. They have also taught me the value of bringing the Four Agreements into my relationships. I am real with others and expect others to be real with me.

“This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!” ~Polonius in Hamlet

I must be true to myself so that I may be true to all others. It’s a lesson learned hard over the decades of my life and one I have learned well.

I hope you ready the article, share it, and comment on how a similar experience has permeated your life.

Finding My Brother

September 16, 2021 / Tom

He lived but a day, but a day he lived.

Largely forgotten by his clan, the only memories of him became a weapon. Countless lies became his story, although he had never uttered a single word. His only misdeed seemed to have been his birth, and his memory became fuel to a burning torch. It was a torch used quite painfully.

In his single day of life, he became something he would have never wanted to be. Despite all of the potential blessed to him upon his conception, his day was to be used in ways likely unthinkable to his soul. He deserved so much better.

Despite all of this, he existed as innocently as a human can exist. He was my brother. His name was Steven Paul Evans. I bet even most of my closest family have never heard his name and those who have haven’t spoken it in decades. I wonder if this is a blessing or a curse.

A disclaimer. The purpose of this writing is not to vilify anyone, living or dead. I am writing this to heal, to mend a wound caused by deceit and weaponized love.

On September 12, after my sister’s memorial service, I decided to go on a bit of a cathartic journey, first stopping by my mother’s grave to tell her, and remind myself, that all was forgiven. I spoke words of absolute truth to her memory, and left a piece of regret behind. No, we would not mend our brokenness in this lifetime. I will mend my own, hers would be left to eternity.

I stopped by several family members who have left us, speaking similar silent words of regret and forgiveness when warranted, a “hello” and “I miss you” to all. Memories flooded my soul, and I accepted them in equal measure. I offered my love even if they were not so deserving. My love is mine to give, and I decide who gets it. Forgiveness, to me, opens to door to a much freer exercise of will. It destroys the basket hiding the light. It liberates all things.

Not all catharsis is so painful.

There were moments of levity in this walkabout. I remembered my paternal grandmother-by-marriage (who I considered my grandmother regardless) and her laugh. I stopped by to say hello to her as well, touching her place in my soul with the warmness and kindness she always seemed to offer. The memory of her driving, of her cooking, and of so many other things blessed me with a smile.

There were many moments that were similar reminders that for all the pain of my life, there were great moments of joy, laughter and love. I want to honor each equally as I live my remaining days. My life has had wonderful moments as well as dark ones, and each must be honored with the same attention. In fact, I use the light to heal the darkness and the darkness to bring the light to life.

Finding my brother.

Part of what was on my “need to do” list was find my brother’s grave. It has bothered me for a long time that he was always utterly alone, forgotten by his people and his memory contorted and disfigured. It was important to me that he was no longer forgotten or alone. The narrative needed to change.

I am not one who believes in the afterlife. It’s not that I don’t believe in it, or think it nonsense. I just have no idea if it exists, cannot prove its existence, so I focus on what I can prove. This life must be lived, and if I want to live it to the fullest I cannot be distracted by what may, or may not, exist once it is over.

So in my vision of life, my brother must not be forgotten. He may never know the love of his older sibling but I know it, and I plan to let it roam free.

I scoured the internet often looking for any record of him. Finally, on the “Find a Grave” page, I was able to not only find what cemetery where he was buried but also a location and a picture of his tombstone. It seemed like finding him would be easy, but the cemetery had no map. It turned out not be be as easy as I thought.

Fortunately a dear soul, Bonnie, lived nearby. I can’t overstate how much her kindness and support have meant. Some things are priceless, and she is one of those things. She came over to help, and I admit if felt wonderful not to have to do this alone.

Tommy, I found him!

It took us some time to find him, but when she called out that she had my heart skipped a beat. Soon I was standing beside him, wondering what he looked like in his Day of Life. I stood there just feeling whatever it was that I was there to feel. I mourned him as well as myself, detesting the lies I once believed and promising that he would never again be forgotten or used, and that he would never again be without a brother to remember him.

After a bit, we walked away. I could not help thinking about all the life I’ve wasted and all the potential he would never get to realize. Still, a large part of me felt healed and committed to honoring the brother I never knew. He will be seen each chance I have to see him. He will be remembered each day I think of him.

Part of me wonders if I should be buried next to him; two largely forgotten members of two distinctly different (but the same) clans. I just can’t get there in my mind yet. I still have some living to do.

The Struggle Afterward

The one common feeling that I’ve been struggling with since this past weekend is the feeling of being forgotten. My family has, for the most part, forgotten me. They have no idea who I am or what I’ve done. I am just like my brother but without the tombstone. It saddens me.

My kids are getting older and forgetting me, too. My closest friends, most of whom are back East, haven’t seen me in years. I review the list, and believe most of those I’ve loved in my life have forgotten me. Perhaps it’s just the echo of sadness and depression in all of the loss I’ve felt over the last 30 days, but it is a worthy feeling to contemplate, at least in the short term.

The amazing part about finding my brother is that I was able to discover so much more than just a lost sibling. The death of my sister brought back so many good memories and helped me see those who I have so much love for. The search for my brother allowed me to express who I am in this life, and to be who I choose to be. I cleared away some weeds from tombstones in both the literal and figurative sense, and as a result was able to love in ways I haven’t in some time.

So I shall walk with those lessons for my remaining days, however many of those there are left.

The Door to Eternity

December 5, 2019 / Tom

I felt she was ready. For all the clinging of those who loved her, she needed to leave. It was her time, and when the door opened she looked back, smiled, and passed through the threshold.

Behind her was the anguish of her humanity, in front was something more. Before the door had closed she paused to glimpse one last time as the path that was. She saw the joys of her life planted neatly along the way, and relived the laughter and the smiles and the intimate moments where love had swaddled her soul. She also saw the pains, the suffering, the anguish and the rush of fear that being human had created. In joy she was so mindless yet in fear the mind was all she had.

The look back, it seems, is something all souls do. When they look back at their lives most know it is time to move on. Those who are not ready, though few they be, they return to their humanity to be celebrated for their unpreparedness. Yet that door is something we shall all see, and it is something we shall all pass through. She was ready to pass through before she had actually seen it. She had felt it before she saw it, and it’s pull began to build as her pain increased.

As she reached the end of her humanity she recognized something. While her body was wracked with pain, her heart had jumped for joy. As she neared that door she ceased being completely human and became a part of her divinity. At the end she was ready to let go of being human and open the door. It was time.

She felt the tears of those she loved and the pain of those who wished she’d stay. This was, finally, her journey alone and she could no longer submit to the whims of others. Her soul called for home, her heart begged for love, her humanity desperately wanted to know its divinity. And so, with a final view of the forest she had planted, he closed the door and walked into eternity.

There would be sadness left behind, but joy would return. That’s the thing about both, the return in our human experience with equal vigor. Yet, what lies on the other side of that door leaves one of those behind.

And I Don’t Know Why

March 11, 2019 / Tom

Sometimes I am sad, and I don’t know why. Sometimes I see things coming that aren’t really there. Sometimes I see threats in the shadows where none exist. Sometimes I fear falling even when I am on stable ground.

And I don’t know why.

Sometimes I am sad and I know exactly why. Sometimes I see things coming that are really there, even when I deny their existence. Sometimes things in the shadows reach out and bite me. Sometimes even the most stable of ground crumbles beneath my feet.

And I don’t know why.

Sometimes I don’t know or understand why life has been so challenging. Sometimes I falter, and I hit the ground hard. Sometimes I sin, and don’t know who to ask for forgiveness. Sometimes I can hear angels crashing into the windows just outside my bedroom door.

And I don’t know why.

Sometimes life shows me why I have been so challenged. Sometimes I rise after the hardest fall. Sometimes I forgive myself and seek penance in mending my open wounds. Sometimes I care for angels with broken wings so that they may fly away.

And I don’t know why.

Sometimes the echoes in my life become too great to bear. Sometimes tears soak me to the bone and the chill of the air around me steals my breath away. Sometimes I feel utterly alone.

And I don’t know why.

Sometimes I welcome the silence and seek the emptiness. Sometimes tears wash away my fear and gift me a blessed renewal. Sometimes I find warmth in a heartfelt embrace. Sometimes I need to be alone.

And I don’t know why.

I don’t know why about a lot of things. But I will wipe away the tears and brush the dust off my wounded self just to seek a smile in the wilderness. I will find a way to climb the stones and love the mud just to view the gates of heaven. I will seek the answers and know the truths if just to gain one more breath. I will survive because I have found no other choice.

And I don’t know why.

7 Keys to My Happiness

October 16, 2017 / Tom

Truth be told, life isn’t always happy. It isn’t meant to be. Sometimes we need guideposts that point us in the right direction. Sometimes those signs are lit softly by beautiful street lamps that coax us in a particular direction. Others are lit by unpredictable torches that flare as we approach them, the resulting fear and blisters send us on another way. A hot stove will always point our hand in the proper direction.

Here are 7 keys (outside of the Four Agreements) that I’ve found that have led me to a pretty happy life.

Accept the emotional state you are in. Embrace your emotional state, whatever it may be, and cherish it. Resistance to a negative emotion often gives it greater power, while embracing it weakens its grasp. You will then be better prepared to act should you choose to change it. I’ve actually started laughing, when in the throes of negative emotions, simply by saying “I love you” to that emotion while envisioning hugging it like a long-lost love.
You can’t do everything. Accept it, or you will always live in a state of disappointment. There are wondrous limitations in being human. For example, you can’t fly and you can’t breathe under water unassisted. Those boundaries exist to keep us focused on those miracles we can create, and those acts that make us the wonderful beings that we are. Stop focusing on those things you cannot do, and stay attentive to the things you can. Within those things, you can be a wondrous creator.
Discover what makes you happy. The path toward enjoying this life is walking a path filled with happiness and joy. This is accomplished not just by being happy, but by experiencing those things that are contrary to that objective. Remember, you may often find what makes you happy in the shadows of things that don’t. Don’t be afraid of being unhappy, there is great value there.
Your first act of service must be to yourself. I know, this sounds selfish. That’s because it is. Everything we do is rooted in selfishness, even the most selfless-seeming acts ever done. We react, or act, based on who we are in the moment. This means our the desires of our own self motivate our actions or reactions. Even when we do stuff we think we have to do, and not necessarily want to, is rooted in a selfish desire to be something. So, we must first be kind to ourselves if we want to be kind to others. We must first care for ourselves if we wish to be of care to others. We must first take into account our own needs before addressing the needs of others. Failure to do so will result in resentment, frustration, and self-loathing.
Be prepared to succeed. This is essential to fulfilling our purpose. We all know what we want to do, what we find great joy and passion in doing. We don’t often fear failure or cherish success when we are doing something we love, because there is an underlying realization that there is great success already in doing what we love. The results are secondary to the activity, and the activity usually results in great success, regardless of how we define such success. However, for those of us not doing what we love, we often ignore our calling because we are afraid to fail.
Don’t be afraid of burning bridges. There are certain roads we should never go down again, and we all know which ones they are. Don’t be afraid to burn the bridges that lead us back to those roads. Burn those fuckers right down to fine ash, and let those remnants scatter in the wind. That way, if you get tempted to go that way again, you’ll find a raging river of common sense impeding you in your moment of temporary insanity. You’ll be thankful for the discussion, and for the fact that you have no choice but to turn around and walk in a different direction.
Don’t pay attention to what others think. This is pretty vital to my own happiness. I once tried the other way, believing that my own sense of happiness was dependent on others being happy with me. That never worked out so well, so I used that flaming torch (and the many blisters it created) to change my direction. Now, I seek to make myself happy, and I don’t listen to others who may have a different version of what I should be doing. That creates a condition where those who don’t like my version leave, and those who do come flocking to fill that space. See, a win/win for everyone!