Alchemy Through Matrimony…
… “sarvam annam.” Especially for a dad.
It’s all Alchemy, right? It ALL goes into the making of being human.
“Every thing is food.
Every last thing.”
[insert here one of my main mantras: “The things in life don’t happen to me, they happen for me.”]
And some of those ingredients, though they each may be necessary in the making of a me, cannot help but be more memorable, more momentous, more sorrowful, or more joyful than others. As you know, I’ve spent time reflecting upon my dad’s death for the lessons that experience had on making me a better human. I learned a lot about myself, and I’ve grown. I am not the same person I was before Dad joined our household last summer. I am not the same person I was the day before he died—heck, I’m not the same person I was when I woke up this morning.
We are almost four and a half months removed from Dad’s death; and tomorrow (as I send this out on July 21, 2023), my family will experience another momentous ingredient in the life of my family, and I the same in the continuous making of me.
In my life as a dad, myself, that is!
Tomorrow, my daughter exchanges her current last name, mine, for that of her about-to-be husband’s. The ingredients of life that go into the making of a Dad are so incredibly rich. I’ve been blessed with three souls that have come through both Kristin and me (two that walk, Connor and Cassidy; one that flies, Ryan); and “blessed” cannot even come close to what my kids have meant to me in all ways and in all the roles I’ve played on my human journey. If you are a parent, you know. And if you are the dad of a daughter, you know a little more.
Outside of how it all related to the caretaking of my dad, through his dementia, dying, and death, I typically haven’t talked much about the rest of my immediate family in intimate terms through this blog, especially of my kids. And it doesn’t feel right to start now. So I won’t. I’d never compromise their privacy—the lives and stories they lead are only theirs to tell.
But tomorrow was way too important to not mention that we will celebrate my daughter’s wedding on July 22—and we will be doing so with such great pride and joy. We get to bask in the glory of our beautiful daughter, with all the memories that will flood our minds and hearts as we think of her life up to now, while at the same time, with full and open hearts, welcome more fully into our lives a new son-in-law (our first and only one!), who, himself, is a remarkable and extraordinary soul. Have I ever said how lucky, how incredibly LUCKY we are as parents???
A couple years ago, I came across this poem, written by Teddy Macker for his own daughter Ellie, and I remember I shared it with Cassidy at the time. But, being a dad of a lovely daughter, I’ve kept it close because I knew our shared life would present additional opportunities to re-read and newly appreciate its wisdom. Typically, I would have written my own poem in my daughter’s honor, (and who’s to say I haven’t?), but this one has served as its own ingredient in my life, in the alchemical making of relationship with Cassidy, that seemed appropriate to include here. You’ll notice so many common themes and parallels with the things I’ve been exploring. This is simply an indication that it is Truth.
In a way, although I didn’t see it coming this way when I first read it, it serves as a great blessing for my daughter as “bride and wife to be.”
So I offer it in loving service to all parents, and thank Mr. Macker for his gift:
A Poem For My Daughter
~ Teddy Macker
It seems we have made pain
some kind of mistake,
like having it
is somehow wrong.
Don’t let them fool you—
pain is a part of things.
But remember, dear Ellie,
the compost down in the field:
if the rank and dank and dark
are handled well, not merely discarded,
but turned and known and honored,
they one day come to beds of rich earth
home even to the most delicate rose.
❖
God comes to you disguised as your life.
Blessings often arrive as trouble.
In French, the word blesser means to wound
and relates to the Old English bletsian—
to sprinkle with blood.
And in Sanskrit there is a phrase,
a phrase to carry with you
wherever you go:
sarvam annam:
everything is food.
Every last thing.
❖
The Navajo people,
it is said,
intentionally wove
(intentionally!)
obvious flaws into their sacred quilts …
Why?
It is there, they say,
in the “mistake,”
in the imperfection,
through which the Great Spirit moves.
❖
Life is easy, yes.
And life is hard.
Life is simple, yes.
And life is complex.
We are tough, yes. But we are also fragile.
Everything’s eternally perfect
but help out if you can.
❖
Work on becoming a native of mind, a native of heart.
No thought, no feeling, could ever be “bad.”
It’s just another creature
in the bestiary of Buddha,
the bestiary of Christ.
Knowing this,
knowing this down to the marrow,
could save you, dear one,
much needless strife.
Remember that wild and strange animals
paused to drink at the pond
of the Buddha’s mind
even after he saw
the morning star.
❖
No matter what you do, no matter what happens,
it is impossible to leave the path.
Let me say that one more time:
No matter what you do, no matter what happens,
it is impossible to leave the path.
❖
Believe it or not, dear Ellie,
some folks carefully imagine
hideous gods tearing at flesh,
clawing at faces,
eating human hearts,
and drinking cups of blood …
Why?
To shake hands with the Whole Catastrophe,
to cultivate the Noble Idiot Yes.
According to their tradition,
there are 84,000 “skillful means,"
84,000 tactics of wakefulness,
84,000 ways to become spaciously alive,
84,000 ways to be at home in your life and in this world.
And many of those skillful means are like this one:
enlightenment through endarkment.
❖
Life appears to be fundamentally ambiguous.
Wily, everycolored, unpindownable.
For evidence of this, spend time with trees.
Over and over they say,
There is no final word.
And big decisions—
decisions concerning
relationships, concerning children,
concerning death—
are rarely made cleanly.
In general, be wary—
even if just a little—
of talk of purity,
of goodness,
of light.
❖
To love everything, not just parts …
To love all of yourself, not just certain traits …
To rest in not knowing …
To carry the cross
and to lay your burden down …
To savor the medicine blue of moon,
the fierce sugar of tangerine …
To be a Christ unto others,
a Christ unto one’s self …
To laugh …
To be shameless, wild, and silly …
To know—fully, headlong,
without compunction—the ordinary magic
of our beautiful human bodies …
these seem worthwhile pursuits, life-long tasks.
❖
By way of valediction, dear Ellie,
I pass along some words
from our many gracious teachers:
Eden is.
The imperfect is our paradise.
All is grace
Postscript:
Would it surprise you in the least to learn that my daughter, my Cassidy, gets it? She understands it all—in all her own glorious and imperfect perfection. She’s been well on her way, in a way since her birth, in creating her own remarkable and extraordinary life—this dad could not be more proud.
Did I say I could not be more proud? Being a dad has made me a better human, a better person. Period. Exclamation point! There is nothing of which I am more certain.
Being a dad to each of my kids in particular, has been, and continues to be, priceless. So, yeah; some ingredients you just cannot buy. Some you just have to hope and trust you are worthy enough that they surface all on their own within your own humble, precious, and wondrous life—gifts, as it were and is, from this Universe.
And surface in my life, they have. In so many glorious ways.
I could not be more proud! (Have I mentioned that yet?)
Always and Ubuntu,
and eternally grateful,
~ kert
Beautiful (the words and sweet Cassidy)❤️
So very excited for this special day!
I was waiting for this post!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Enjoy tomorrow! Sending love!