Every summer growing up my father would take my sister and I up to the Pisgah National Forest where we’d spend a week or two camping. Those are some of my most cherished memories from growing up. We’d spend our days hiking, biking, swimming in the rivers and exploring waterfalls. We’d explore everywhere we could. We’d venture into the forest connected to our campground, or we’d go off trail on a hike and try to find some unknown overlook. My favorite was exploring the river around waterfalls. I’d jump from rock to rock downstream or I’d try to see how close I could get to the base of a waterfall.
Just this past week I had the opportunity to go back to same area we camped as a kid, but this time with my wife, brother and my wife’s entire family. We walked some of the same trials I walked in my youth. We stood on top of the same mountains. We stared amazed at the same waterfalls. As an adult I didn’t feel the need to go off trail or to find something no one had ever seen before. I was no longer searching for something, but rather allowing myself to fully appreciate all that was around me. At one particular waterfall, I stood for what felt like hours watching the power of the water coming over the top of the waterfall and rushing down river. I was amazed at how all of this power was generated so effortlessly. The water wasn’t trying to be more powerful, but simply going with the flow. Doing what it was supposed to do.
At the same time, I noticed my teenage brother and his mid-20’s uncle attempting to cross the river at the base of the waterfall. Which is basically the dumbest idea ever. I stand there a pillar of stress imagining all the ways my brother can slip and bust open his head. I think of the ambulance ride, the hospital, and the pain that can all be cause by one small miscalculation. Then I see his dumbass jump 4ft from rock to rock in a section that the current was so strong he couldn’t stand in. Instantly, I am enraged with anger. I stand there, seething.
Apparently as cool as I am, my emotions were not hidden very well. As I walk back to the rest of Hanna’s family, the first thing I am greeted by is a round of laughter from all the parents who claim I went full “dad mode” by staring holes of anger through my child doing something I didn’t want them to do.
Wait… me? Dad mode? No… I am the kid who climbs on the rocks and makes this own dad scared. I am still the kid.
Time flows. Change is happening all around us always. Like water flowing down a river, time rolls on bringing about change. We can try to fight change, but change will always win. No matter how hard I try to be that kid, I am not. I have grown. Literally. Metapolitically. Anyway you cut it.
Change comes in two ways, and I know both. Some change is voluntary, and some is not. I’ve woken up sick, head pounding and thought to myself “something has to change”. I’ve looked at a bank account… in the red… and thought to myself “something has to change”. I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and thought “something has to change”. And most painfully I’ve examined my thought patterns and the words I say and thought “something has to change”. Voluntary growth through an intrinsic drive is healthy and it’s what leads us to become better humans. But voluntary growth takes a back seat to involuntary growth when it comes to gravity… power… because involuntary growth can put you on your knees in a moment’s notice.
Involuntary growth comes to us disguised as news. Good or bad. Something tossed on your plate that you cannot change. Something that has happened or will happened that you can do nothing but cope with. Life is full of these moments. These moments come and they go. They vary in severity. You cannot tell if they’re good or bad in the moment but only through time and meditation will the true nature of the moment be relieved to you. That is why I stared at the river for so long. Contemplating my life as the river, and my consciousness the flow.
About 8 weeks ago I was sitting on my back porch unaware that my life would change forever. My wife came out the back door holding a positive pregnancy test. Which, believe it or not, isn’t the sound the alarm moment you might think it is. But then she showed me that she not only had one positive pregnancy test… but two. To which I thought, well two positive tests of the same brand doesn’t necessary mean anything, they could both be reading the wrong hormone… but then she showed me they were different brands..
Flash forward 10 hours, Hanna and I are standing in a Home Depo parking lot at a pregnancy van holding a sonogram of our first child.
Something about life coming at you fast… cause this wasn’t one of those growth moments we planned for.
I’ve been forced to change how I see things. No longer will I be the one hopping from rock to rock but rather I will be watching my kids do it… and I am scared shitless. But I will confidently say, I am so ready for life to no longer be about my journey from rock to rock but helping my children get there. I don’t know what kind of parent I’ll be, but I do know that I will care a lot.
Involuntary growth has brought about the largest changes to my personality. Change has made me a better person. Not the kind of change that is brought about by my analytical mind or a change to my practical life. Change from deep within that permeates into everything I say, do, and touch.
Change that sets my tube in the center of the river and allows my cares to go away as I flow downstream.
The MFL 