Exhale the BullShit, Inhale the Good Shit.

How is it, that the human heart can produce so much love and energy when it knows so much hurt and betrayal?

How does it go?

"Inhale the good shit,

Exhale the bullshit."

It makes a lot of sense; bring in the good, let go of the bad. But, this morning as I reflected on another crazy ass exchange with my estranged Dad, it dawned on me that I was breathing in bullshit, I had to exhale something more positive. 

"Inhale the bullshit, yet

Exhale some better shit." 

This thought was brought you from my most recent exchange with my Dad. 

Michael, I don't understand what I said or did to get you mad at me this time. I realize you're a busy guy with a life of your own, but I have been making attempts to talk with you with no success. I'll just leave you to do your thing, and you can try contacting me when you're able to find the time. No, I'm not mad nor upset at you either, I have just been trying to get up with you to no prevail on my part. Love Dad.

MON 2:50PM

Michael, what's wrong?

nothing is wrong. I don't understand

I've been trying to contact you with no reply.

Son, I do love you, but I'm not going to allow you nor anyone else to try and make me feel like the bad guy. I know your mad at me for everything in the past, but the past is gone. I can't chance the past, so with do I have to keep paying for it?

I'm not mad. This isn't a clear way to communicate. You need to hear it, that way nothing gets lost in translation.

you ever remember about me, please remember I do love you, and ill love you till my dying breath. I'll take loving you to my grave with me.

We talked about this already. Show me. You fail to understand the reality of the situation.

You treat your children right, but it's obvious I screwed up with mine.

I won't bother you anymore. I understand your busy, and your time is valuable. I do wish the best in all your endeavors. If you decide you want to talk, you know how to contact me. I'll be here when you decide you're ready to talk, and stop blaming me for being absent for what you call 15 years. It hasn't been 15 years, because I seen and talkjed with you during my father's funeral, and that wasn't 15 years ago.

If you have any thoughts or questions please comment in the comment section of the blog page below, thanks. 

We just started talking again after 15 years. 15 years!!! He has never met my wife, he never my kids, he has stayed silent for a very long time for no other reason than pride. Before that, there was a 3-ish year period where he stayed silent too. He never made it to a high school game, my college football days or any other event in my life. He has missed them all. He hasn't lended me or my Mom one dollar or ever offered. So 2-3 months ago he shoots me a Facebook message about wanted to talk and that he has cancer. Late one night, driving back home, I call the ol' man and we chat. 

In that first conversation my Dad said all kinds of lofty bullshit, like "Michael, I would do anything for you." And, I'm like, "Okay, but...where the hell did you go?" He got upset and frustrated with me that I kept responding his "lofty love claims" and his stake as my Dad with "Okay...buts." He kept saying, "Michael, you can't live in the past." I was, like, "I'm not in the past. It's all forgiven." I kept telling him that we have started a new chapter in our relationship, but it a little hard for me to take him at his word. AM I CRAZY HERE? He eventually agreed with me and said, "You're right Michael, I need to show you, not tell you." He nailed it. 

So we have been touching base with one another on and off since that first conversation, but then about a week or two goes by and he doesn't hear from me. That's when I got the message from him saying, "I have been trying to call you, but I haven't had success." It seems harmless, but if you know my Dad that's how he starts to apply pressure. So I called him recently and we talked about that. 

I said, "Dad, I appreciate you reaching out, but I have a hard time with you saying that it's frustrating for you, and that you have kept trying and trying with no success." I told him, if this was a pattern of behavior that I shown you over years, then, yes, you'd be right. But, it isn't. We just started talking again after all these years, and it's hard for me to hear your lofty love language and boisterous claims as my dad, and then come at me for not picking up every time you call. Like, come on man! AM I CRAZY HERE? 

He hang up before I could finish. He didn't like that. Then I writes (all for you to see as you scroll down in the messages provided) how I need to move on. 

Ay yai yai! 

I'm furious at this. So furious that I can't think straight, and I almost called into work and said I'm out for the day to deal with some family bullshit.   

But I go, and I let this sit within me for a bit. 

Next morning I went to the place I always go, my sanctuary, the coffee shop with my pen and my notebook. I went there to vent about all the anger welling up inside me. As I sat there, breathing, stilling, waiting, thinking, I, immediately, felt a jolt of pain pinch me and reside on the left side of my neck, right on the ridge of my trap (aka trapezius). The emotional anger I felt literally turned into a venomous physical ailment. I sat there stilling, breathing, venting, trying to deal with the new stress my body had presented me with.  Then I started thinking about why I felt what I felt. Where was it really coming from? How should I respond? I wanted to respond to my dad and try to explain to him that I'm not living in the past and I do welcome him back, but that I need him to understand why it's difficult to hear his lofty love language given the context. 

So much bullshit. 

So I let all the bullshit within me stir around and do whatever it wanted to do. I literally took a big inhale, filled my lungs, then as I exhaled, something very strange, very wonderful happened. The venom in my neck, all the frustration, all of it went away and an incredible sensation of total ease came over me. The sensation covered my entire being and my thoughts were of love and light as each millisecond of air left my lungs. My gaze settled into nowhere and I was overcome. 

How can the human heart experience this? 

My hurt is still very real, but it's not frustration any longer. I'm more sad that my father cannot comprehend a relationship with his son. I wish it were different, but he's man and his pride will be his pillow. 

Darkness cannot cover light. It will try, but, in the end, it won't. 

Peace be with you friends.

MB. 

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