On the surface of your consciousness, there’s your father, oh so strong, oh so sweet, oh so lovely. You’re wishing him Happy Father’s Day. You’re saying: Dad, I love you. Dad, I miss you. Dad, I wish you hadn’t died. Dad, I wish we could still talk. Dad, you are the best. Dad, Dad, oh Dad, Dad of so many emotions, so many feelings (both positive and not-so-positive), real-life father, oh, my heart, thank you for being my father…
OK, let’s move deeper than the surface. What is a father? What is a father, really?
A father is someone who nurtures in a strong masculine manner, one who shows us The Way. A father is action. A father earns income, supports us, strengthens us, holds us up.
Let’s go deeper within. What is the inner father? The father which exists in each us?
Our father spirit is perhaps our spirit of action. It’s what guides us in daily in affairs of the earth. It points us to practicality. It points us to fulfillment. It points us to creativity. It is the impetus that moves, oh how it moves, yes, it’s moving still in each of our lives, isn’t it?
The mother, we know, is a receptacle, an open space. The mother gives. The mother yields. The mother allows. As the father of ourselves creates in the world, the mother provides the womb. We are…are we not?…the mother and father…both…intertwined, indivisible.
When we whisper “Happy Father’s Day” to ourselves, what are we heralding?
We’re singing delight to that which we’ve created.
We’re singing hymns of manifestation.
We’re humming to the universal principle of sunlight which nourishes the crops, which drives the tractor, which furrows the plow.
In many religions we call God, the One, the Universe, “Father, oh my Father” in recognition of that manifestation, that seed, that plant rising above the soil. We shiver in joy that the divine is what has broken, what has risen.
It’s the bread.
It’s the waving wheat.
It’s the hymn of thanksgiving married with the mother, oh the sweet mother, the child of creation manifest here now–forever!
Happy Father’s Day.
Do not ever cease bringing ourselves forward in sacred marriage, in the union of pollen, the union of our eternal fruit. May we never cease expressing gratitude for you, ever, ever, sacred ever.