Knock Knock... Are You There Dad?

Happy Spring Everyone! Yesterday was the vernal equinox so today is the first full day of Spring. We are also only a few days removed from St. Patrick's Day which is an important celebration for me as I pay homage my Irish American Heritage. Between the symbolism of Spring and the ties to my ancestors in Ireland, I enter this week with a plethora of ideas for my weekly reflection. Perhaps when it is all written, I will have woven the whole thing together in some fashion. I guess we'll never know if I don't begin somewhere, so here we go! 

This past Saturday, I started my day with a powerful men's community meeting at the Sulzer Library in Lincoln Square. This particular gathering is a monthly in-person meeting for MenLiving which I have been hosting since the beginning of the year. I am so grateful to those who have attended and continue to work on themselves. If you would like to read a bonus story this week, you can check out the blog I write for the MenLiving weekly newsletter where I talk more about the meeting by clicking right here. Later that afternoon after the meeting, my wife and daughter and I visited the Irish American Heritage Center for a day of family festivities in honor of St. Patrick's Day. 

My father was immensely proud of his Irish heritage and used to go to the IAHC with a great deal of regularity back in the 1980s and 1990s. Going to the IAHC for the first time since my daughter Emma was born was a way of introducing her to a part of my father's world even though he left his body over 20 years before she was even born. We talk about my Dad's Spirit energy freely and openly in our home. In fact my daughter refers to Grandpa Jim as if he was a member of the family, which he is. 

My father's Spirit has walked the path of life with me from the moment he crossed over. In fact one of my favorite stories is the one about how I ran the Chicago half marathon 36 hours after my dad died on essentially no sleep, way too light on calories and dehydrated. Mind you, this is not a recommendation for anyone to try. By some miracle though, not only did I finish the race, but I also ran the fastest half marathon of my life. It was a perfect October morning in the high 50s, crystal clear skies and no breeze. About a mile into the race I felt as if I was lifted off the ground by my father's Spirit and the next thing I could remember, I was crossing the finish line and collapsing. It was a beautiful experience. 

Through the last 27 years since my father's death, I have felt a steady presence of my father's guidance and there are particular moments when it is almost as if his energy is so strong that I can feel him moving through me. Besides just the half- marathon, I can remember the day when my wife Christiana and I made our first visit to the place that would become our wedding site back in 2013. It was a misty October day that happened to coincide with the 15 year anniversary of my Dad's passing. The site which is called Tir Na Nog is named after a mythical, enchanted island off of the west coast of Ireland know as the land of the young, where there is no illness and no unhappiness. My father was so strong in that moment that we actually cancelled our previous wedding plans and started from scratch with the new site so that we could have a vintage Irish themed wedding. I even ordered a hand made bowtie that had my family's tartan plaid to wear on my wedding day. 

On the day my daughter Emma was born, we had reached a particularly dicey moment in the labor and delivery process. Christiana had been sitting on a laboring stool next to the bed. Her water had broken but the amniotic sac did not break cleanly, so Emma was struggling to get out. The head charge nurse came into the room and took control by saying something like, "Get her on the bed right now and onto all fours. We're getting that baby out right now!" I could feel the sense of urgency in her voice and for a brief moment I was terrified that I might lose both of them at once, so somehow I managed to pick Christiana up and toss her onto the bed all by myself. I am no brute, so the accomplishment of lifting my nine-month pregnant wife and tossing her on a bed that was higher than my hips was an adrenalin induced, super human feat. Minutes before I had been praying to my Dad to give me strength, and sure enough, his energy crossed over and gave me a helping hand. 

A couple of hours later, one of the nurse's assistants who had been in and out of the birthing room asked us who the other man in the room was at the very end of the process. The entire delivery team was female. We had two midwives, two doulas, and a number of other nurses and attendants, all of whom were female. When we asked the nurse's assistant to tell us more about what she saw, she swore she saw another man of medium build and salt and pepper hair. The description matched perfectly with what my Dad looked like in his late 50s and early 60s. Our minds were blown! 

One of favorite moments with my Dad's Spirit came on a trip to Ireland in the Fall of 2014. The trip coincided with our the year anniversary of our wedding. We decided to treat ourselves to a second honeymoon of sorts as I was getting over the sudden death of my dear friend Richard. In Richard's honor, we decided to seize the moment even though there were a number of logical reasons why we shouldn't invest the time and money in yet another getaway. About halfway through the trip while staying with a couple in Donegal, they suggested we visit the Knock Shrine in County Mayo which was on the way from Donegal to where we were headed further south by Galway. 

I vaguely remembered seeing stuff in my father's office about the Knock Shrine, but never gave it much more than a passing glance. As it turns out, the Knock Shrine was the site is famous for the story of an apparition of the Blessed Mother Mary, St. Joseph and Saint John the Evangelist that appeared in 1879. My father was deeply devoted to The Blessed Virgin Mother and prayed the rosary on an almost daily basis. We decided to try to make it to the Knock Shrine before it closed that day, but our timing was going to be tight and we would need some good luck of the Irish and my Dad's special guidance to get us there before sunset. 

We arrived at Knock shortly before closing, so we only had time to visit the small annex chapel that was constructed on the grounds of the actual spot of the vision of 1879. I went into the small chapel and knelt in prayer. Within a few minutes, I felt as if not only my father, but my entire ancestral lineage had moved through my heart like a tidal wave of unconditional love. It was one of the most profound spiritual experiences of my life. I was shaken to the core and needed a good bit of time before I was ready to continue our journey towards Galway later that night. The next morning in Galway I took a swim in the Atlantic Ocean even though the water was probably less than 60 degrees. It felt more like a baptism than a swim to me and I have never been quite the same since. 

Woking with our ancestors has been a fascination of mine for many years now. My belief is that the more we call on our ancestors and angels for support and guidance, the closer their Spirits remain to us and the more we feel their wind beneath our wings. I have built this belief system not only from my own personal experiences, but also from the numerous brilliant teachers I have had the honor of studying with through the years. My spiritual healing teacher Ron Young leads people through a river of life practice that allows individuals to get to know more about how their early childhood has shaped the outcomes in their present life. Studying IFS and other parts work systems has reminded me that every single one of us has a young exiled child living inside them that needed to be seen and heard even more, no matter how involved their actual parents and other relatives were.

More recently, I have seen numerous men go through Path to Spirit Warrior training weekends where they finally process and heal baggage that they have carried not just from their own life, but also the lives of ancestors who left their bodies years, decades or even centuries ago. In the process, I've come to learn that healing and forgiveness are not bound by time and space. We can continue to grow relationships long after the "other" is gone from their human form. In all cases, the other has already let go of any grudge. It is only those of us who are left behind in the shackles of our human bodies who are in need of the healing. 

Things are shifting for me. A foggy period of Dark Nights of the Soul which has been floating over me like an Irish mist for a number of years now seems to be lifting, and in doing so there is a clarity that I have not felt for quite a while. I guess you could say that a new Spring with new opportunities and immense personal growth is transitioning from the budding process and beginning to flower. I am excited to see what grows out of it. Parts of me wish my Dad could be here to see me become the man I came here to be, and other parts of me remember that he is always watching from a front row seat with a big smile on his face. 

Who's watching over your life? Perhaps it's time to talk to them a bit more. The help you are looking for is always there. All you have to do is Knock at the door to the other side of the veil and say hello. The answer you get may just be the one you have been waiting on for your entire life. 

Well that's all for this week. Many blessings for a joyful Spring. Until next time,

Jim