My father's house is the mythological location in my soul. It is where the men in my life store wisdom and wounds. The wisdom can be represented in numerous ways. I find wisdom mostly when I am having to do the right thing. The wounds are the perspectives that leave me victimized and motivate me to victimize. The wounds are their mistakes. All these are stored as memories, instincts, and habits. I have painted the men close to me with disdain and failure. This has caused me to look beyond them for examples of how to live. I have betrayed my lineage. I have committed treason against my familial army. I have belittled the decedents of the Garcia and Estrada warriors.
I can't help but notice the pain I still haven't dealt. I see it now that I am reflecting on the past year. The joy on the horizon makes me think this is my lagging grief. I keep revisiting the disappointment for not having enough guidance through my adolescence and young adulthood. The last 2 year's circumstances have me question my integrity and proving my dignity. I am moving my disappointment into a better view. I am opening my line of sight and realizing that it is not that there weren't good men in my life, but rather my shortcomings can be better explained through focusing on the complexity of people in my life and their scattered contribution. I am more to blame than any one group in particular.
I must take more responsibility for my lack of fidelity, emotional irresponsibility, and narcissism. This is the dominant message that I have refused to recall from my "Father's House". I am the reason for my choices. I am the captain of my ship. I must be a man among warriors and ask to take the test that will help me learn to be accountable for my choices. That test will credential my valiance, endurance, and love. The men in my life love, each in their own way. I see how important it is to remember that looking for how someone loves is critical to receiving love. I must put on my battle gear, protect my heart because it is sacred, and open my soul's eyes to observing more ways I am loved. The role I play in my life has become more pinnacle than what has been looking for reasons.
I have finally seen how cynical I have been towards the men in my life. My failures with relationships has angered me. I have unfairly put the responsibility for my behaviors, choices, and feelings on my role models. This can't be. Their example must become a learning opportunity and not an example. I am knowledgeable enough to be considerate, compassionate, and patient without falling back on excuses pointing at my "father's house". Equally the same conversation helped me release my disgruntled attitude for my "mother's house".
That evening was a bitter sweet acknowledgment that I am not beyond the pain I like to think all my introspection and health should have freed me from. I love to be challenged, I struggle to be corrected, and I am proud of how willing I am to look inward.
