Rise Again, Fathers

What I need to hear from myself as a father today

The following is me talking to myself about my behavior as a father. In the midst of my own stubbornness, crankiness, and any efforts to control my family, this is what I might say to myself on any given day:

Dear Father,

The day was what it was.
You did what you did.
You thought what you thought.
May you rise again.

There’s a chance tomorrow to repair what may have been broken today.
And a chance tomorrow to break what was mended today.
There’s another day to feel like fatherhood is unfair.
And another day to release from the mind of a victim.

What might it be like to be just one ounce kinder to yourself?
One moment of acknowledging the relentless burden of constant chaos…
As chaos.
Not more evidence that you suck.

You are not the only father that is experiencing a day like today.
Fathers upon fathers before you have had the same experience.

At the end of a day, one father held a crushing feeling at bay because it was too painful to bear.
Another father let the day crush him and he sank into a hole.
Another father let the day crush him knowing he will rise again.
Another father watched as the feeling came to crush him, and smiled at this familiar friend.

Your internal labor may go unseen.
Your internal labor may not feel speakable.
Regardless of what you speak aloud, you are not alone—the lineage of fatherhood is always with you.
When you sit in the dark, other fathers sit in the same darkness.

You can’t always hear them.
The impulse to speak your needs—hushed by romantic stoicism.
Instead, barking commands at your family—this is how you keep them away.
If they got too close, you might have to contend with the pain of isolation.

Isolation brings anger and confusion.
Anger and confusion create more anger and confusion around you.
Your desire to dominate members of your family keeps you from a truer desire—your desire to rise above and laugh at your own stubbornness.
To uncover the gifts waiting patiently behind your silent shadow.

You may not have so much control over when you and life will meet gracefully.
When battles would be dropped.
When harmony would be considered the norm.
Those energies between you and the other human beings are not yours to control.

You only take responsibility for your response as a father.
You only take responsibility for your participation in battles and healing as a father.
You only take responsibility for how deeply you listen as a father…
To a truth that lies somewhere between your perspective and another’s.

You are meant to be free of the desire to control yourself and others.
May that reality frustrate and crush you.
May you find beauty in the chaos.
May you rise again, tomorrow.