On Fatherhood, Manhood & Becoming Better Ancestors.
I was at a networking event last week with my daughter, and I felt the irony. I used to be the one pushing her to go meet people. Now she's the one pushing me.
I found the person I want to annoy for the rest of my life, and I couldn't be happier.
So why train for something you've already been doing since day one? That's what I thought too, until I read Breath, by James Nestor, about a year ago.
People have been studying the breath for thousands of years. Long before it had a hashtag.
HELL NO was my immediate response. Of course.
I was on my way home for the day when the call came in. Shutting down my computer. Logging out. Keys in hand. Then the phone rang.
Most of our art and life is about love.
The desire. The connection. The loss.
A couple of years ago I was eager to tell my parents I was getting married.
She could've gone younger.
She could've gone somewhere with more zeros.
She could've gone easier.
Every culture had access to their own ingredients, their own instruments, their own materials.
Adults still struggle with it.
Screaming "be grateful" at a kid doesn't work.
Ran, played, yelled as little boys.
We were children until
we weren't.
For years, I struggled with my daughters having a stepfather.
Not his fault. He didn't do anything wrong.
I went in for the bro hug. Bro was like: Damn. Your pecs are firm. Hey now... you noticed?
On Fatherhood, Manhood & Becoming Better Ancestors.