Saturday, July 2, 2016
I worry about my son. I thought that when my children were grown I could stop worrying but that is not the case, even though I know that worrying does no good. He's not happy. His criminal past hangs over him, dogging him. I feel bad for him but he also refuses to see reality. I suggested a course of action for him and he refused. I suppose that's all I can do.
I'm no different. I often have a hard time with reality, like to bang my head against the wall, hoping for a different outcome that never comes. Perhaps most of us are like that. Maybe I'm not the only one.
The big guy and I spent a few days I the mountains. It was damp and rainy. I had a minor meltdown, stomped my feet and pouted. I wanted certain things to happen. I wanted to be in control. As usual, I was not. The universe intervened. I was forced to slow down, find alternatives, challenge myself. Things did not go as planned and as I result I got this lovely shot above.
I obviously still struggle with letting go. I still believe I can bend the world to fit my view. It's not happening. I learn. I forget. I relearn. I reforget. Dammit! I forget to breathe, forget to let go, forget to be.
The mountains help me to remember how small I really am, how little impact I have over anyone beyond myself and my own breath.