A letter to my son

Simon,

I am trying so hard. Trying so hard to remain humble, not to get misled. Trying so hard not to squander my time down dark allies, down sideways. I am trying hard to see the other in myself and myself in the other. I am trying to see it your way. I am trying to empathise. I am trying hard not to hate, to catch myself thinking things that are products of myself, things that merely evidence and reinforce my habitual way of thinking and make me see things with a darkish cast.  I am trying not to be subjected to my own personal automatic assumption that there’s always something nefarious lurking in the background. I am starting to see that it’s all of my own making that there is no bad thing. I am trying not to see myself, because if I see myself I will inevitably arrive back to the rotten conclusion that I have already drawn. I am trying to see myself but I don’t really need to try.  I can see all I need to see even if it is not always nice. I know only I can mislead me. I am trying to express what I want and not to feel ashamed about it. I am willing to accept a refusal (or at least I am trying). I am trying to see my potential. I am trying to see my own value before others tell me what they think I might want to hear. I am trying to see that you can wait for ever for someone to appreciate you in the right way. I am trying to accept that what I want is paramount. I am trying to accept that what I want could be not only good for me but also for others. I am trying to see that everything is always for the best. I am trying to put the misguided agenda of my personal ego into context. I am trying not to question. I am trying not to be misled by fantasies, however subtle, such as anything I think I suddenly might need or need to be, anything that’s not happening right now in this moment. I am trying hard to stop thinking I know it all, not to succumb to the misguided cast-iron voice that says that it knows best, all said and done. I am trying not to be forever deluded. I am trying to let go. I am trying to see that psychological balance doesn’t immediately translate into riches. I am trying to stop myself beating myself up even to such an acute degree that I might not even notice. I am trying to stop things sneaking in under the door. I am trying to see things as they really are. I am trying not to regret and not to live as if it was two or three years ago.  I am trying to understand that there’s no such thing as death. I know I am trying too hard to avoid ridicule. I am trying not to try to avoid it. I am trying to realise that some people don’t think the worst. I am trying to see that absolutely everything is a projection. I am trying to be content. I am trying to understand what it would feel like if I let go of my illusions. I am trying not to take an instant dislike to my close relations and family. I am trying to become more aware of the things that are going through my mind. I am trying not to be defensive.  I am trying not to constantly perceive threats. I am trying not to compare. I am trying hard not to be drawn in my mind to one moment where I faltered and to ascribe untold significance to it. I am trying to realise that it’s ok for my voice to falter. I am trying to ask for help though I do believe there are few who would help me. I am trying to see that you get what you give, but on subtle levels. I am trying to be more present. I am trying to feel what I am feeling. I am trying to understand that it’s not all about me. I am trying to see that everything is related to this very moment, down to the colour of the sky or the shadow cast by a tree. I am trying very hard not to split infinitives.

Above all I am trying to remain humble.

I know you might not see that I’m trying all these things, but I am trying.

Dad.