Sins of the Father Redux
For the purpose of this post I’m removing the religious connotations and moral precepts attached to the word ‘sin’. Borrowing from influential Metaphysics teacher Neville Goddard, it simply means ‘to miss the mark’. By not being the person I was meant to be, ‘I’ve missed the mark’– I’ve ‘sinned‘…
I’ve wondered if my parents grew into the people they were meant to be. There are a select few ways of knowing for certain if who they are now is who they were supposed to be. Being separated by a generation I assumed they had more wisdom than I did, and possibly would acquire more throughout their lifetime. However, through the vicarious living, and not so subtle suggestions of what to do with my life, it seems perhaps they’ve missed the mark, but want to see that I hit mine. It’s difficult to know who I’m supposed to be when I’ve only recently figured out who I am. Furthermore, I must remember that I can’t remain static: who I am won’t change, but who I’m supposed to be may change from time to time.
Though I’ve stated my parents were hilarious scary immigrants, I believe they did the best they could with the resources and levels of awareness available to them. However, I’ve also wondered, if my father didn’t become who he was meant to be how it would have affected me. And if I didn’t become who I was meant to be how that would affect him. My father is the strong silent type, with a plethora of good ideas, but doesn’t always articulate them clearly. Though we don’t share the same perspectives on many societal issues, I respect his position and sometimes enjoy discussing them. Yet, before I was able to grasp complex social concepts, I perceived much of what was communicated to me as boring lectures. I would’ve much rather been playing outside, or chasing girls, but even those options became lectures. The lectures went in one ear, and out the other but, before they evacuated my conscious mind they swirled around my subconscious, leaving behind faint whispers.
Growing up, I struggled with the inner conflict about who I was, who I was meant to be, and who I wanted to be. When the moment arrived that I became consciously aware I turned into my father, it was a wave of emotions. Who I was, who I was meant to be, and who I wanted to be didn’t match up. Echoing in my mind were the sins of my father, the sins of others, and sins of my own. The years spent defying my parents, and trying not to turn into them came back around. The harder I resisted, the more I completed the transformation. It was scary. So I finally let go, and stopped fighting it. I embraced it, and learned who they were, who I was, and who I could be. Afterwards the real change occurred, and I was ‘saved from sin’.