My dear boy,
There is an unsettling realization that comes with every new height you attain, whatever the sphere of life may be. As is common with any teenage boy, there was that moment when my dad and I didn’t see eye to eye. Every father faces this. It is that moment when the boy is becoming a man, and he supposedly thinks he knows the way. He assumes an uninformed truth about his ability to be utterly responsible for himself. Of course, personal responsibility is something I have spoken to you about time and again.
Nevertheless, this is different. It is the feeling of “I understand the world now.” Trust me, my dear boy, growing pubic hair and sprouting a strand of beard or two doesn’t translate to having the competence required for being a man.
Anyways, I remember the first time I set out to live by myself. I was very much greeted with deep respect for my father because it all came crashing down. By the way, the older we get, the more like our parents we become. I would wake up in the morning, and I would look in the mirror, and I would see my father. There is no denying that I considered running away from that image in the mirror. There is truth to the sentiment that much of what I did was to not become him. I wanted a different path, but little did I know that certain destinies are set in stone. You may have freedom, but it is always within a frame. That’s by the way.
My first instinct was to reach out to my father and thank him, because I couldn’t quite explain how it was that he was able to hold it together. Before I left home, and I must add, on a good note, I thought I could handle a family. I thought I was ready. Yes, I believed I had it figured out, but I got to live alone, and I realized I hadn’t quite figured out how to handle my affairs.
I digress. Every man, my dear boy, is either running away from something or running to something. Then some are undecided: they’re not sure whether to run away from it or run to something. At all times, my dear boy, know why you are running. What are you running away from? What are you running to? I can give it to myself that there are times I very much understood why. I know why I’m running. Sometimes I was running away from something. Other times, I was running to something.
In all, I have learned it is best to always run to something; something should be edging you forward. There is nothing behind you except histories that are there to remind you why you set out in the first place. They always echo. Perhaps I consider it an echo now because of how far I think I have run. But they can be very loud. Sometimes they scream. Most times, they mock, they make jest.
It is unfortunate that some men never actually get off; they die where they are born. Don’t die where you were born. Don’t. This brings me to the reason why I am writing to you: every child should be well acquainted with the concept of scale of preference. The topic of opportunity cost should be taught very early. As much as I would want to delude you, my dear boy, we can’t have it all. No man ever does. What great men do is accept what they can take and live with the choices they’ve made. That’s all the best of us do: live with the choices we made. Hence, at the bedside of a dying great man, you barely find regrets lying around his side. It’s not that he doesn’t have them; it’s that he buried them a long time ago. He never brought them home.
Don’t live with your regrets. Don’t. If you feed those tiny little creatures, they become monsters and eat you up. For this reason, you must get up every morning and chase it; have something that you’re willing to run out for. Well, as your father, I made certain choices, and I have lived with the choices that I have made, not apologizing for them, not feeling sorry for them, come what may, I made that choice. Hence, at all times, you must be sane. It is why I, as your father, have chosen not to touch alcohol. For what business has a prince with wine! If it’s about intoxication, I tell people that I was born intoxicated enough for a whole nation.
Now tell me, my boy, what’s the difference between a creative and a madman? And what’s the difference between a madman and a drunk man? There be none. I should like to write to you some more, but in this letter, there are things I wish to tell you, but I will restrain myself. However, I trust that my letters have furnished you with sufficient knowledge and discipline to dig out my intentions from beneath these words that have been strung together. Above all, a man must never lie to himself, under no circumstances whatsoever. He may lie to others even though it complicates his life, but never to himself. The center must always hold. You, my dear boy, are at the center. It is your responsibility to center it. You stay safe, son.
Love,
Dad.
