I get my propensity for crying from my dad. He was an incredibly tender-hearted guy. I was aware of that trait from an early age and always felt it was one of the sweetest things about him. He was never afraid to be vulnerable. Having been born in 1930, he was quite an unusual man in that way. When something moved him- a piece of music, a deep hug from someone he loved, pretty much anytime he talked in earnest about his bride, he would often become emotional.
I also got my desire and need for reflection and contemplation from him. When I think of my dad, it is most often of him sitting in his chair, quietly reading or thinking. He never enjoyed watching television, it just wasn’t interesting to him. He was the type who was always exploring through thought, prayer or by a desire to connect. He thought questions were more important than answers. If someone said or acted like they had it all figured out, he would most likely frown. The seeking was always the point, not the certainty. I believe that being vulnerable , and therefore uncomfortable, in the not knowing can usher us towards greater growth. As I learn to live without his physical presence in my life, I hold onto and try to embrace in myself all of these things that made him so beautiful and good.
And speaking of vulnerability….I am looking forward to beginning again my Gentle Yoga class next week at the Spirit Room! I hope you will join me as we all continue on this journey- one day, one breath at a time.
With love and gratitude,