why are you speaking?
Dear Z.,
today i mused that perhaps the increased intensity of your meltdowns in the last couple of weeks is a symptom of something much greater—a collective push/pull of desire and despair, oneness and hard boundaries, and some animal reaction to the excruciating sensations of growth and transformation.
this is not to wax poetic about the beauty of change, because change is only as beautiful as it is ugly, and the balance only tips when you focus your eyes on something specific, like flowers blooming amidst an unkempt construction site.
nor is it to complain about your meltdowns, which are beautiful in their own way, full of gratitude and grief, one that you’re a little more on-this-planet and able to communicate as such; also that you’re a little less elsewhere, floating in the greater fabric, or whatever analogy works for the time and space beyond time and space, before life and after.
no, there is change happening that no one can quite articulate yet, and it’s much bigger than a buffoon being elected president of the united states (again), but as they say, everything is connected.
i got you, buddy. you’re safe in the dark. just like we covered before bed tonight: tiger’s got you, bear’s got you, even slothy’s got you.
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the other night, at the dinner table, i talked with your mama about something, can’t remember what, when you asked, clearly and to the point:
why are you speaking?
i paused, and considered: maybe this is you entering the phase where you ask why to everything. and maybe this is the phase where i begin to hear wisdom when it speaks.
all thought-junk. back to your why are you speaking:
it was, and continues to be, a really good question.
it’s a question that i want to ask myself before i say anything more than absolutely necessary.
and that may be the end of this letter to you.
thank you.
i love you.
your papa,
Sean
thank you, Summer ⚓️