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T-mo is 2 years old today, and I’ve
been feeling sentimental. Every time he passes through another
phase of his childhood I get a little bummed about the
“old” baby who’s not there anymore...but then the new
phase always turns out to be even better. He’s taught me so
much already.
I’m an addictive person. I have lots of bad habits that
I’m always trying to break, and I’m usually looking for
help and inspiration. I thought turning 30 would be the impetus
for cleaning up everything in my life; later I thought Kari’s
pregnancy would do it; then it was Isaac’s birth. These
were all just more moments in a long list of promising, but ultimately
failed, life-changing opportunities. Of course, external
prodding can only go so far. We all know that the ultimate
motivation to change has to be internal.
I have finally found the motivation to change my life, in a way that
surprised me. The thing that finally did it, oddly enough, was
when Isaac started putting words together. When it became clear
that he was no longer just mimicking sounds, but actually expressing
thoughts, I finally truly realized my responsibility as a parent.
I understood, deep down, what I always knew intellectually: that
he is looking at me, every minute of every day, as his template for how
life is supposed to be lived. I only get one chance to show him,
and I’ll be damned if I’m going to screw that up.
I have to teach him, by my example, what’s really important in
this world. My words later on won’t mean a thing to him if
he hasn’t grown up seeing the truth in my own life. For me,
this is the greatest joy and hope that children bring to the world
– not only the rebirth of the species with every new generation,
but also the improvement of the older generations. I can’t
teach him what I don’t know.
So, T-mo, here are the things that are important to me. These are the things I hope to teach you by living them myself.
Be peaceful. Respect yourself and others. Take care of
yourself physically and emotionally, and do the same for the people you
care about. Enjoy what you have, and work for what you
don’t. Do work that you love. Be grateful. Be
generous. Know what’s important to you and what
isn’t. Laugh as often as possible. Let yourself love,
and start by loving yourself. Value your friends and family, but
don’t cling to them – they will change, as you will.
Remember that the things valued by society – money, fashion,
security, novelty – are all superficial; the true value of these
things lies in what they point to inside you. Be honest with
yourself.
On your first birthday, someone asked me (on video, no less) what
advice I’d like to give the older Isaac. I didn’t
know what to say, so he gave me a specific scenario: What do you
say when your mate asks the dreaded question, “Does this make me
look fat?” I stammered something silly, because I
couldn’t think with everyone staring at me like that. But
here’s what I wish I had said: If you have a healthy
relationship, then you can be honest. If you feel that you have
to lie to your mate, then there are other problems you need to address.
Above all, remember that the world is
a magical place. Magic comes in lots of different forms, and
though they may not all be fun, they're all pretty wonderful.
Don't forget to be amazed.
In the last few months, without knowing it, you’ve helped me fix
a lot of things. I’ve finally quit smoking for real.
I’ve quit caffeine, gotten sugar under control, and started
working out again. I’ve taken time off from work for the
first time in years, and loved spending that time with you.
I’ve purged the house of a lot of junk that just wasn’t
important enough to keep. I’ve reconnected with some old
friends and family who are important to me. I’ve turned
down a job making a lot more money because it wasn’t something
I’m passionate about. I’ve been more peaceful, more
productive, and just downright happier than I have been in years.
This is because of you, and it’s for you. Happy birthday,
buddy.
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