My oldest son turned 22 today. To call him a kid now doesn’t seem right, though thankfully he’s got a lot of kid in him that I hope and think will be with him for a long, long time.

I’ve always said I love my kids where they are now and every moment in that now we pass through together. That’s life. And that life has sure had its moments of thrills, tears, laughs, frustrations and smiles punctuated by moments of enlightenment when I’ve learned something from them that has life affecting real meat on the bone.

It’s all about clarity. Before the moment, I’ve had an idea – in different degrees of fogginess – about how something works or should work. It’s like looking at a sky full of stars. I might have a good idea that each star has its own meaning and that each has an effect on the others. But try as I do, though I also feel there’s a direct connection, I can’t quite connect the dots and nail down how it all works.

My oldest son, Max, has always had the uniquely incredible ability to pierce through all my protective barriers and get right to the core of who I am with nanosecond laser precision. Like I mentioned above, he knows that I like to look at and live life as a moment to moment experience, but then he’ll zap me with a line like “but Dad, how conscious of those moments are you really?” Not very long ago, just hearing that kind of question would’ve triggered a highly charged light speed emotional transition from passive defense to vicious offense with all the ugly trimmings that come with it.

But then I trained myself to stop, listen and, as uncomfortable as that moment might feel for me, accept that same moment for what it is. That didn’t mean at all that my viciously offensive emotionally reactive state had magically disappeared. No, I still felt electrically churned inside – and still do now when I’m appropriately triggered. But I’ve found a way to be aware of how I feel right at the beginning as those feelings very quickly start to snowball. With that awareness, I can keep that negative charge at bay and force myself to listen. And then it’s easy – or at least, easier. In listening I learn. And in learning I’m often enlightened. It’s still a work in progress. It always will be.

Here’s a line Max put in his Christmas card to me, “…we are all travelers, and in this journey there are infinite levels of understanding we have yet to discover within ourselves.”

Thanks, Max. I love the journey and very much appreciate what I’ve learned from you about consciousness and much, much more along the way.

Travel on and Happy Birthday! Love, Dad