Good Morning Jacob...

Letter to my Son
Sunday, 2 February

The Joy of Living

Good Morning Jacob…

I hope your days are going well.  Someday I hope to see the product of your creative mind over the past few years.  I am filled with hope.  After intellect and love I believe hope is probably the most powerful of human assets.  I can’t imagine we would accomplish much if it weren’t for our belief that we can make things always better.  A good part of that belief is based on hope.  As you know by now there are very few sure things in life.  We set goals for ourselves, we start new projects, with the knowledge that these efforts don’t always turn out as we would like.  It doesn’t stop us, though.  Successful people succeed in their undertakings in spite of their own failures and not due to their enjoying an endless winning streak.  Sure, a good deal of their persistence is based on a belief in themselves and a rational evaluation of the fundamentals necessary to achieve their goals but there is always a worthy contribution of hope in the mix.  People take on ambitious challenges knowing full well they can’t control everything.  There are just too many variables in life that are beyond our ability to influence.  Instead of wringing our hands over circumstances beyond our control, we hope for the best.

We aren’t all winners to the degree of people we see in the news that hold flamboyant fortunes in money or who have corralled enormous political power or who are celebrated for their great artistic success.  These people are but a tiny element of all humanity that also strives to do great things, to make a real difference with their lives.  It’s just a fact of life that most of us fall short of attaining our most ambitious dreams.  I count myself among these worthy many.  Am I crushed?  Hardly.  I believe I have benefited greatly from my own efforts, as futile as they may seem to some who have watched me over time.  I have attempted to be the person I believe that I am.  There are many times when I have fallen short of my own standards.  There have also been times when I was surprised at what I was able to accomplish through my own energy, faith in people and, of course, hope.  Hope is provided us all from birth but it isn’t a magic wand.  It doesn't substitute for reasoned judgment, honest effort and the perspective that comes with wisdom.  A project based primarily on hope is little more than the purchase of a lottery ticket.  Certainly we can do better than fervently pray for divine intervention on our behalf.  Blind luck is for those having no other recourse.

The great reward in living our life armed with the belief that all of our actions truly matter is that we find ourselves on a path of real personal growth – a life of heightened awareness.  We decide for ourselves the actions we take and we take ownership of all of our chosen actions.  We are empowered in spirit as we live as actors upon a stage who write their own scripts.  We can, at times, be casual with life but we avoid living absent-minded of whom we are. 

The words I’ve chosen sound burdened with responsibility.  Where is the joy?  Where is the frivolity of love on a spring day?  Can’t we be playful?  Heavens, yes.  Were I a better writer there would have been more emphasis on the joy that comes with experiencing life more fully.  I don’t prescribe a puritanical regimen of work and duty.  I only want to pass along my personal thoughts on the importance of being authentic to oneself.  I believe my own greatest failings occurred when I attempted to become someone I wasn’t meant to be.  Where was my inner compass?  I made decisions based originally on guesswork.  Then I made decisions to cover for my own previously bad decisions.  I fought myself into a corner.  I faked a role I couldn’t live.  I don’t like the thought but maybe I’m a wolf that tried to live in a manger.  That’s a topic for another time.

You’re a terrific person, Jacob.  Be always who you are.  There is no greater reward for you.

Love,

           Dad

Good Morning Jack...

Letter to my Son
Sunday, 7 July

Neighborhood

Good Morning Jack…

I hope only for the best in health and happiness for you, your mother, brothers and sister.  Hope is never a casual expression.  The world sometimes presents us with sinister turns.  The people I care for most can sometimes seem to have a frail hold on life.  Still, nothing is gained dwelling in darkness and I think it best to enjoy the light of day.  We live to stay involved.

Each of us is furnished a familiar outlook on life that also displays characteristics unique to ourselves.  We all desire much of the same things but we set about procuring these goals in a manner that reveals our own shades of personal meaning.  In so doing we fill the niches of humanity.  At some point in life our time spent planning for the future is encroached upon by our estimations on how we’ve already done.  Our life, seen in retrospect, makes for an interesting narrative.  Certainly there are some who have turned their early intentions into accomplishments and they now walk the path they always envisioned for themselves.  Yet, the decisions they made along the way and the events that led to this point in their life were beyond their ability to foresee.  We fulfilled our predictions to a splendid degree but the manner of our achievement is a story spiced with intrigue. 

There are those of us not quite so resolute in our goals.  Our youthful intentions often seemed murky, even to ourselves.  The journey began without a plotted course.  The destination was never adequately settled.  Critical decisions were improvised.  What does one make of this manner of voyage?  Was there a notable result beyond that of personal discovery?  This captain’s log may hold a tale of misadventure, shameful lapse of character and brilliant survival skills.  The ship finally makes port safely, having to show for its extended effort a cargo hold that is empty save for two rare albino coconuts. 

Popeye’s goal in life was to win the heart of Olive Oyl.  He worked very hard at it.  Olive always appreciated his effort and devotion to her but she never could quite overcome her attraction to Bluto’s animal magnetism.  Bluto was a narcissist and I doubt Olive Oyl meant anything more to him than a prize of conquest.  Bluto was no good.  When he swept Olive up with his powerful arms, holding her pressed to his barrel chest while he carried her off, she would scream for Popeye and vainly struggle to be free.  Deep inside, though, she was enthralled with the feeling of being a helpless captive to desire and she would sigh, “Oh, my!”  Meanwhile, ever faithful Popeye would come running, crying out, “I’ll save you, Olive.”

Ain’t life a bitch?  If only Bluto could be trusted.  If only Olive would settle down.  If only Popeye wasn’t such a mumbling nitwit.  If only what was good for you wasn’t a can of spinach – leaves soggy with vinegar. 

One of the goals in most everyone’s life is to win someone’s heart.  We have our reasons to develop our personal capabilities as far as we can take them but it all seems to be in the context of being a part of another person’s life.  The desire to accomplish great things can lose much of its luster once the person you most care for is suddenly gone.  It doesn’t mean we quit.  We find new motivations to continue on but it hasn’t the same sense of sharing as before.  If you’re a Neanderthal there’s enormous gratification in dragging the impressive carcass of a freshly killed animal to the cave entrance of the woman you love.  If it turns out she has left then all you can see is decaying flesh and an issue with flies.  You leave it for the hyenas.  You head in the direction of the setting sun.  Who knows what waits for you over the horizon?

Love,

          Dad