A mistake in my cursive revealed a truth from the universe.
I have no idea how to do this.
Stepping unsteadily through constantly shifting territory, with stakes so high.
A baby’s life. A child’s educational foundation. An adolescent’s preparation for independence.
Love.

Trying to dodge all the pitfalls of tyranny and disrespect for her perspective, all while trying to remain firmly rooted to support her when she needs someone to confirm that in the constancy of change, she retains the perfection she gained at birth.

For her, I sacrifice time with her as I proceed on my own path. To inspire her to continue forward with integrity.
To be a conduit for creativity:
Kung fu.
Tai chi.
Poetry.
I hope she's watching.

The mentor always leaves too soon.
Time’s a-tickin’.
A misstep will take me away some day.
A trial will arrive that I can't help save her from.
I can, only now, show her how to keep flowing when the path is unclear or blocked or nonexistent.

There isn't a way till you walk it, so move on ahead.
Clearing interference from the limiting stories told by others and yourself about yourself.
Resisting the false narrative written by the world and weaker people that you need this or lack that.
Shedding weakness and timidity.
Writing your own story of possibility and largeness and strength.
Never ever staying down when you stumble.

#fatherhood #poetry
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