I turned 62 years old. No, 62 is not middle age. There is no way in hell that I want to be 124 years old. I am old. I am not wise by any measure. Still, in my 62 years on Planet Earth, I’ve grown wiser. I do what I love for as long as I can. I have as much fun for as long as I can, too.
In William Wordsworth’s My Heart Leaps Up, he wrote:
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
“The Child is father of the Man.” The child teaches the man, teaches the adult to have joy. When you’re a kid, you’re supposed to have fun. That’s your job. You just do what you love to do. The world is filled with wonder, infinite in possibility.
When I was 7 years old, I knew that whatever fun I had, whether that was playing with my cousins or drawing my favorite Superheroes, would all end abruptly. Dad would get mad at me for something that I did or didn’t do. Honestly, I never knew which. I only knew that I was in trouble. I was as scared as hell. Childhood was my no-win scenario. No “natural piety” for little Jon. Often I was sad and crying.
I got that I was not the son Dad wanted. I was his greatest disappoint in life. I was his greatest failure. I was a failure to myself, too. I would never be good enough for Dad. I would never be good enough for anyone, especially me. So, I spent much of my adult life proving that I was good strong enough, that I was smart enough, that I was good enough to be loved. Yet, being more of anything would never be enough. That’s the human design. That’s just life.
In the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism:
1. There will always be suffering in life.
2. The source of suffering.
3. The end of suffering.
4. The path to end suffering.
Perhaps, the first three Noble Truths are not so useful. That there will always be suffering life is Captain Obvious. Yeah, no shit. The source of suffering comes from the past. My source of suffering was my childhood trauma and depression. I suffered, because I hated on myself. I was good at that, too. Lady MacBeth said, “What’s done cannot be undone.” The past is the past. I can’t do anything about the past. Maybe, the end of suffering is death by human design, by poetic default. Really who knows.
The only thing I can do is find my path to end suffering. I believe that life is about finding our own path to end suffering. Whatever that may be. On my path to end suffering, I trained in Aikido with the late Mizukami Sensei and Ishibashi Sensei. I healed my childhood trauma and depression in therapy with Lance Miller. I write posts on The Good Men Project with my editors Lisa Hickey and Li M Blacker. I discovered what I loved. I make meaning in life. I have a meaningful life.
I’ve trained in Aikido for 35 years. Aikido is the great love of my life. It gives me life. The late Mizukami Sensei taught Ishibashi Sensei and me for over 25 years until he passed away. Mizukami Sensei said, “Just train. It’s not like you have to get somewhere.” Sensei became a father to me. He taught me to be a good man and make a difference for others.
Sensei generated the safe space for me to be me and invent the greater-than version of myself, whatever that might be. I was free to succeed, fail, and grow from both. For the first time in my life, I was just free.
I practiced Aikido technique over, and over, and over, and over again. I just trained. In Aikido, Sensei taught me, “Wait it out. Enter the attack. Take a glancing blow if you have to. You’re not always going to get away scot-free. It’s one time.” Whether that’s the 250-pound man punching or life coming full force, I take a glancing blow for what’s meaningful to me. Just train.
I brought to bear what Sensei taught me in working with my therapist Lance Miler. I looked at my fear of Dad, my fear of never being good enough as a little boy. I entered my fear. I didn’t defend against my fear. I was scared as hell. I accepted my fear inside. I got that Dad only did to me what his Dad had done to him, because he didn’t know any better. The sad legacy of abusive fathers. I forgave Dad for being afraid, for not knowing how to raise me, and for being imperfectly human. I forgave myself for not being strong enough as a little boy to stand up to Dad and protect Mom. I forgive myself for being imperfectly human, too. I love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not. I practice that over, and over, and over again. Just train.
Ishibashi Sensei is now my Sensei, my big brother. Sensei said, “The purpose of Aikido is to release your fear.” He said, “The safest place to be is under the attack, in the danger.” When the 250-pound man punches to my face, I wait it out. I enter the attack, enter the danger. I let go my fear inside that I’m not good enough. Although my fear inside never completely disappears, every time I enter what I fear, I let go more and more of my fear inside. I free me.
On the journey to fall madly and deeply in love with a woman, who will love me back the same way, I’m not what women want. On my path, I’m not meaningful to someone or someone uses me until she can find someone she loves. I let go my fear inside that I’m not good enough over, and over, and over again. I don’t hold my fear inside. I let it go.
Lance Miller initially asked me to list the qualities that I wanted in woman for a possible romantic relationship. I really had no interest in generating that list. Still, I loved movies and writing movie reviews. So, I looked at my Favorite Move of All-Time, Director Martin Brest’s Meet Joe Black starring Anthony Hopkins as dying billionaire CEO Bill Parrish.
Bill tells his daughter Susan, played by Claire Forlani, about falling in love:
Love is passion, obsession, someone you can’t live without. I say, fall head over heels. Find someone you can love like crazy and who will love you the same way back. How do you find him? Well, you forget your head, and you listen to your heart. And I’m not hearing any heart. Cause the truth is, honey, there’s no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love, well, you haven’t lived a life at all. But you have to try, cause if you haven’t tried, you haven’t lived.
That profoundly landed in my heart. Instead of composing a list, I wrote a book. WTF? My dear friend from high school and Best-Selling Author Ken Goldstein inspired me to self-publish. He said that there was an audience for what I wrote. So, I did. Maybe, I sold about 40 copies of my book. The people, who read my book, said or wrote that it made difference for them. I discovered my love for writing, too.
Eventually, that all led to writing for The Good Men Project with my editors Lisa Hickey and Li M Blacker. I write about loving and forgiving thine own self on the path to end suffering. From the number of shares that our posts receive, what I write makes a difference. What I write is meaningful for others. That’s more than I could have ever wished for. I’m grateful and humbled.
I’m 62 years old. I do what I love for as long as I can. I have as much fun for as long as I can, too. Why do anything if it’s not fun? Just asking. I love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not. I don’t hold on to my fear inside. I let go my fear inside that I’m not good enough. Like Mizukami Sensei said, “Just train. It’s not like you have to get somewhere.” I’m quiet inside. I’m happy for the most part.
I’m older and wiser. I may never be wise. Maybe, I’m on the edge of wisdom. I work on myself, not on others. That’s all I can do. I had a good life. I have a good life, too. 62 years. Doesn’t it go by in a blink.
