reflections on my incredible father

My Buddhist dad never actively taught me his faith as I was growing up.?

Religious folks might think this was foolish, but it was actually incredibly brave.

The way my father imparted wisdom was not to lecture me on philosophy, but instead to do the wisest, most Buddhist thing he could possibly do…

To surrender to the universe and place his trust in me.

To lead by embodying his principles rather than forcing me to accept them.

He never sought to steer my path in any way. He never made me feel as if he would love me less if I chose any other track.

Rather than try to control me out of fear, he trusted that if he raised me on his principles and led by example, I would find my own way towards truth.

To the untrained, judgmental eye, my father seems weak and passive.

Nothing could be further from the truth. He embodies strength through surrender. He embodies it through softness. He embodies it through trust and acceptance and unconditional support.

He is a hero.

On the surface, my wonderful parents seem like opposites. But I’ve found incredible beauty in that polarity.

On one hand, my anxious mother’s epic, intense love. On the other, my calm father’s gentle, resolute acceptance. Clashing and harmonizing to create all that I am.

I wish everyone was so blessed to have such a love in their lives.?

Someone who never judges you.?

Someone who makes you feel that they’ll love and accept you no matter how much you mess up.

And if you do have this person, I hope you know how lucky you are.

The way I'm writing this, you might think that he's passed on. But he's alive and well.

I feel incredibly blessed that he’s still here and I get to express this to him.?

Please don’t wait until people are gone to begin appreciating them.