Saturday, August 11, 2012

Welcoming the Rain

They say there's something about expecting and having a child that changes you. Changes you at some fundamental level, which makes you as new as that life you participated in creating. Your old life is over and a new one begins.

Now, don't get me wrong, there's a lot of newness. However, I'm finding this period of life to be the continuation of decisions made long ago. I left behind the partying me long ago and began to gather with my community in a richer way. I no longer drink. Domestic chores like washing dishes and cooking for my beautiful partner settle my mind and bring me a peace that I can't explain. I've never been more ready to be a father. I've never wanted anything more.

I'm finding no need to shift my priorities to welcome Ravechild (working title for the babe that dances all night long in mama's belly) into this world. Perhaps it's because I took to looking deep into my life many years ago. Maybe all that spiritual searching, and the inevitable shedding of superficial crap that accompanied it, led me to that new beginning early. And maybe that's why I don't fear what is to come.

That quest for self-knowledge taught me to love life's hard lessons. I've grown to appreciate the gut-wrenching opportunities for reinvention that life always seems to offer up. Perhaps that's why, when my palm is on her belly, and a miracle turns beneath it, the joy meets me where I already am: a seeker of light, facing light.

It could be that it's different when this is something that you've worked hard for. When you and your partner, chart cycles, take steps to encourage fertility, and engage in the most important work of all: abandoning yourselves to each other in an ever deepening love. And maybe everyone's capacity for love is different. And maybe some folks are expecting something else out of life besides, well, life. But for me this is the deepest calling. For me, this is an honour that dwarfs any other worldly accomplishment.

So I welcome the rain. I let it soak me to the soul so that I may grow into this newness. And as Sarah and I prepare to welcome Ravechild into a storming world, in the year of the dragon, in the year 2012, with old structures falling away and bright new light flowering throughout, I know that I have finally found what I have been seeking. The beginning is near...

Tuesday, July 31, 2012


You will always come to a point in the circle of life where you will have the opportunity to take things to the next level and spiral up. You can, of course, plod over the same dusty ground that you've already covered. However,  you may choose to look up, to take a deep, deep breath with your nose in the clouds and draw into you the willingness to soar.

I am at that point now. Honestly, I've been at this point many times with mixed results. There have been times where I returned to the safe and familiar, where I banked on what I already knew and left the venturing to more daring souls. However, the times when I chose to set my new best are the ones that a will smile upon warmly in my twilight hours.

This time is different. This time I have felt the kick of the next spiral from within my partners uterus. From that tiny initiating force I draw this burgeoning momentum to leave all my past limitations behind me. I can already feel its eyes upon me, depending on my vision as a guide to exploring the world.

I know that what I'm feeling is nothing new. Many a father has described this primal impulse, fraught with anxiety, to provide for their child's needs. I find myself these days tending towards deeper and deeper contemplation about how this is to play out for me.

I feel the desire to protect  them from so much in this world. Yet I want them to experience life to the fullest. I want them to look up to me, yet I want them to transcend the hell out of me. I feel the need to avoid the mistakes of my father and yet replace them with mistakes of my own. Most importantly, I know that this little one will have their own journey and mine will be a prime example.

My role? To keep them alive and keep out of the way, to be a hand when needed, be a voice of support and never be an obstruction. And as I hear these idealized absolutes spiral from my pondering, I can feel them taking their place among the wishes of every other new father who has stood in the path of the life force, hoping to catch the wave and ride with it safely to shore.

To me this means fully living my journey as a spoken word artist, page poet, actor, playwright, workshop facilitator, activist, and community organizer and doing whatever else it takes to bring a smile to that little face and the face of his beautiful mama, my wonderful and supportive partner. This time, I am choosing it ignite with all that is alive in me and make life as wonderful as it can be.

So there will be no bucket list. There will be a succession of amazing projects and happenings. There will be no "what-ifs", although there will be the occasional "what-now?" My goal is to return from every daydream as if it was treasure map and arise from every crushing defeat like I'm "too big to fail." I want to merge musics with the melody-makers and plot journeys on the stars. And I want to become love just like the Universe, look into those tiny and say "This is what you do to me."