It’s been three years since “A Father’s Path” came to me. Like a good story, the meaning of The Path deepens with each chapter. Like journaling, a good and true relationship, or deep devotion to something bigger than yourself, the words have become a reflection telling a wider and deeper story.

The Path has never been mine. I travel alongside fathers and sons. Describing its time and space has been both clear and elusive, but always a labor of love. To look back through generations of fathers’ stories and ahead into the future is sacred ground. The arc rises, offers places to stop, catch your breath, look back, and remind yourself each step teeters on awareness and the unknown. Light and dark. A razor’s edge.

Not coincidental, it’s been three years since my relationship with cancer began. The Path had a “visitor” and in the first year it was just between us. Even though the tests were clean, I knew different. Deep down you know. Sharing a space within the inner circle is that way. Dreams and whispers and visions in quiet spaces remind that there is no here or there— only everywhere.

Soon the relationship takes a different path as we go our separate ways. “It” will be gone, “things” will be different. And so it goes…

I offer these thoughts for one and only one reason. On The Path you only get what you can handle. Whether this is Truth is up to the handler. What fills the soul weaves Father to father, Son to son, from the Source, from a Mother’s love. You can’t see Truth without seeing this.

And “handle” doesn’t always mean happily ever after. Handle is not pain-free or without casualties or sorrow. It’s just yours. And you have so many to be grateful to who have been on The Path so you can rise and continue the steps toward wholeness. In the end there is no ending, and we fall and fall apart, only to rise and become more of our self…

Photo Credit: Oliver Roos (Unsplash.com)