{"id":10221,"date":"2014-06-09T15:23:56","date_gmt":"2014-06-09T20:23:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/themagicalbuffet.com\/blog1\/2014\/06\/03\/"},"modified":"2014-06-09T15:24:26","modified_gmt":"2014-06-09T20:24:26","slug":"father-is-the-first-teacher","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/themagicalbuffet.com\/blog1\/?p=10221","title":{"rendered":"Father is the First Teacher"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Sara Wiseman<\/p>\n

My bathing cap is too tight; it doesn\u2019t hold the cascade of hair that someone\u2019s piled on my head in order to squash it on, pull it tight until it covers my ears. When I take it off later, my hair will be sodden, snarled, and the long strands will catch in the cap, causing me to yelp in pain.<\/p>\n

I wear it, because I want to pretend I am immune from the water: that even when I am submerged, my body will be safe from all that scary wetness.<\/p>\n

If we wore goggles back then, I\u2019d have put them on, too. But goggles haven\u2019t been invented yet\u2014at least not for child swimmers like me. I squint my eyes tightly against the sun, against the stinging chlorine, against the very large dollop of zinc oxide that has been applied to my nose in precaution against sunburn, and allow myself to descend into the whorling wet that awaits.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s summer, I\u2019m at the pool, I\u2019m maybe 4 or 5, and I\u2019m learning to swim.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not an easy surrender.<\/p>\n

I gasp, my heart pounds, and I catch sign of myself in reflection: I\u2019m a green-capped alien, the water is dangerously blue, every ripple like a flash of light along the pool\u2019s floor, and I\u2019m hang on to the only safety I know: my father\u2019s arms, my father\u2019s chest, my fathers\u2019 neck, everything sturdy and comforting, covered with blond curling hair.<\/p>\n

If he lets go, I\u2019m sure I\u2019ll die.<\/p>\n

If I let go, I\u2019m sure I\u2019ll drown.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m learning to swim<\/em>, he thinks.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m trying to survive<\/em>, I\u2019m sure.<\/p>\n

My body is rigid with panic, my arms clamped tight around him, and yet we don\u2019t stop. We go deeper: past my knees, past my waist, until I\u2019m up to my neck in water.<\/p>\n

And even as we submerge deeper, I hear his voice in my ear: relax, you\u2019re doing fine, it\u2019s okay to let go.<\/p>\n

Relax. You\u2019re doing fine. It\u2019s okay to let go.<\/em><\/p>\n

Which I realize now, many decades later and 12 years after his passing, were the only real lessons I ever needed to learn from him.<\/p>\n

$\"\"$ <\/a>The father is also a part of our soul circle; of our primary circle. Many souls are lucky to know our fathers well and long; in this loving relationship, our fathers bestow upon us a trust in the world that cannot be taken away. When our father is here, when our father is in the house, all is right with the world.<\/p>\n

Others recall different teachings from their fathers. There may be grave difficulties in the relationship: karmic wounds that are beyond forgiving.<\/p>\n

Still others don\u2019t know of their fathers, or their fathers flit in and out of their lives, undependable at best, heart- breaking at worst.<\/p>\n

Sinking back into those long time ago memories, I can see other fathers at the pool now, encouraging, berating, training, teaching, ignoring, punishing, present, authentic, cruel, real, loving, gentle.<\/p>\n

All those fathers, teaching lessons.<\/p>\n

My own father took me continually to deeper depths, letting go of me even as I held on.<\/p>\n

Relax. You\u2019re doing fine. It\u2019s okay to let go.<\/em><\/p>\n

These are the soul lessons I\u2019ve been working on, lately, with nary a swim cap in sight, feet fully on dry land.<\/p>\n

You, as daughters and sons of other fathers, will have your own lessons to learn.<\/p>\n

We all receive what we need, even on summer day in the pool.<\/p>\n

What have you learned, in accepting or rejecting your own father\u2019s teachings? The male<\/em> energy moves in all of us, whether we are male or female.<\/p>\n

It is a part of us, just as everything is a part of us. Take a moment now, and be grateful for what you\u2019ve learned\u2014the lessons your father taught you, and also those lessons he failed to teach. Allow yourself to open your heart to all of it. (Excerpted from “Living a Life of Gratitude”).<\/p>\n

$\"\"$ <\/a>About Sara Wiseman:<\/strong>
\nSara Wiseman is a spiritual teacher, intuitive and author of six insightful books on spirituality and intuition, including \u201cLiving a Life of Gratitude\u201d. She is the founder of Intuition University, hosts the popular radio show Ask Sara, and is a top contributor to DailyOM, InspireMeToday, Aspire and more. Visit her at www.sarawiseman.com<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"