To My Daughter

To my daughter . . .

You aren’t born yet;

   And, 

I haven’t met your mother;

   So, 

You might not be real . . .

I might not get blessed with you . . .

I might have to use my time without kids doing something else—like this writing gimmick—instead of being a father to you . . .

But, 

This morning,

I am going to pretend that you’re coming into this world someday.

I am going to imagine that it is inevitable.

So, young lady, I should probably tell you a few things.

The first is a cliche that you’ll hear all parents say to their children, and that is that I will always love you. I don’t know much about being a parent but I know that all young ladies should hear their fathers tell them this. So, little bug, I’ll always love you. Read these words and know it’s true. I will always love you. 

I struggled with responsibility, and I chased dreams instead. And I never really imagined you until today. I worked with children in the first half of my twenties and then the elderly for the second half; all while I dreamed of being a professional fighter. I wrestled with healthy masculinity and crippling insecurities. And I would not have been a good example of what a man should be, and you would’ve been misled and masculinity misrepresented.  My relationship with my own parents hangs on by a thread and there are days where I dream of moving far away from them and hardly think of them ever again . . . 

Because my own mother hurt me, I did not trust women. This spiraled into a few failed relationships and lots of confusion about what it was that I wanted. I rejected the feminine that lived inside my own soul and became hyper-masculine. It was only through working with kids that I believe I stayed grounded. 

A heart-break, an injury, a lot of wine and weed, a few hundred poems and a small book, and somehow writing had started to change me. Another side of myself started to emerge. The writer started to compete with the fighter. You cannot change alone, little bug. You cannot heal alone. God lives in other people. As well as inside of you. I had great friends and support from so many people. I always wanted to make them proud but never did . . .

The more books that I write the more of myself I leave for you. I guess that’s one thing they’re good for. Understand though that those words only represent a temporary mindset and probably a passing emotion or struggle that I fed with the perfect mixture of drugs, alcohol, ignorance, arrogance, poetry and magic. I surfed the wave of a cosmic muse for a few years and it was a bit of a blur, so do not take anything I say too seriously. I liked to play philosopher and psychologist in my free time, but I never was one. No. I never embodied the philosophies I believed in. Maybe I shouldn’t use the word never there because my life isn’t over and the book I am currently writing is changing me profoundly. 

I fear that presently I cannot give you great advice on love or what it means to be a woman. Like I said above, I haven’t met your mother yet. My parents' marriage was a dysfunctional disaster. And our family broke apart when I was 16, but was really broken for a decade before that. I think I’ll have to write you another letter after I have met your mother . . . I am trying, little bug . . . And thinking of you helps. I want to be a role model for you, even though you haven’t blessed me yet. 

If you feel weak, you can become strong. If you feel dumb, you can get smarter. If you feel afraid, you can find courage. If you feel stuck, you can change. If you feel broken, you can heal. If you feel small, remember that you’re powerful beyond measure. If you feel numb, find more life. If you feel the pull of love, go after it. If you have a dream, you should chase it, even if it doesn’t work out how you imagine it will; it’s important for us to follow our dreams and for us to follow our fears. You have to trust others but do not be naive. Trust your instincts. Integrate your shadow. Find your lead in your darkest corners and work to turn it into gold. Believe in yourself. And if you don’t believe in yourself, then believe in me who believes in you. 

You are my child, so I know how stubborn you’ll be. But, be gentle with them. You can’t force someone to learn. You can’t force someone to change for you. I know how determined you will feel. I know how much hurt you’ll have to endure . . . It’s a strange world, little bug. It makes you as you make it. Master the mind and you’ll be a force to be reckoned with. Master the spirit and you’ll love truly. Master the body and you’ll learn what we are capable of. Be at peace with your place in time and space, and in harmony with all things living. Do not take your time here for granted. Do you feel that fire within you? Light your soul ablaze and show them how to live. In the darkness, light the way for them. 

“Intelligence is a gift that should be used for the good of mankind,” – Doc Ock from Spider-man 2. Here’s a random quote that I love. 

Anyway, kiddo, I hope to meet you soon. I hope that you’ll end up being real . . . If you could tell your mother to come and find me, that would be appreciated. A family sounds like a great adventure. 

CH 10/28/24