balancing above rapids
a basic sense excluded from the basic senses
Dear Z.,
It’s mad how time passes. It feels like last week that I was writing my last letter to you, and it’s been more than two months!
Life was not always this fast. I imagine the kind of world you live in as you read this, the one that is taking shape now as AI integrates into every industry and corner of life, displacing humans from jobs as much as it displaces the discomfort of not-knowing from humans.
Perhaps like every parent ever, I fear for the future. I try to not get swept by it, because I know in my bones that you’ll be able to meet the challenges you face in your life with tenacity and grace. Because I see that now, in you, at three-and-a-half years old (tomorrow is your half-birthday!). You give hell to the obstacles you face. I know this because I myself am often the object of your fury.
But you also listen. Not just in the I’m-your-parent-and-you-must-listen-to-me sort of way, but I sense that you consider things deeply, roll them around in your mind until they come out in words or action, weeks or months later.
So I can trust that when you get bonked by life, whether in your body, career, relationships, finance, or find yourself struggling to decide upon a path to follow, you’ll slow down and listen to that which is stirring in the quiet depths of your soul, and consider the messages that may avail themselves to you.
Since I wrote my last letter, we have been camping together, just you and I and Quyana,, for the first time, at Lost Lake. We’ve gone on many adventures since then, once out to Lost Creek near Riley Horse camp, one of my favorite areas in this part of Oregon, and where I chose to ask your mama to marry me not too many years ago, but not so recently now either. I was delighted to set up a tent with you near that very spot, and make snacks, and walk along the creek.
And to witness you walk across the log that bridged the creek by seven or eight feet in height, all by yourself, with such confidence! Your balance is a sense, Z, just like hearing and sight. Same with direction. Always be aware which way you’re facing, even inside a windowless room.
One thing I don’t understand about the world that’s unfolding is why humans find it convenient to outsource our basic senses to tech. What more important things are we making more space in our minds for?
Maybe you can explain that to me someday.
The next month or so is full of days that are just packed. We’ll go to two festivals; mama will be away for a couple of weeks starting her PhD program; Oma and Chris are coming to visit soon. Somewhere in there I’m supposed to get a bunch of work done, but you can trust that I’d rather just be walking barefoot in a creek alongside you, just like at Farmer’s Creek under Sweet Root Hollow, or up-up-up Cape Kiwanda, where we trudged together up the blazing hot sand hill (you climbed on my back when the sand became too hot for your feet) just to get hit by the cold fierce wind at the summit, which the paragliders rode for what seemed like hours.
Love you, kid.
Your papa Sean