My son, with eyes as wide as a midnight sky.

I want him to always ask “why?”

Even when he knows the answer, I want him to ask “why” again.

Because each “why” should lead to another until his x lines up with the all the “whys” and he finds the ordinate of belief and reason—the point of infinite depth, muscle to soul cohesion.

When he goes to school, I don’t care for him to learn about dead presidents and wars upon wars.

I want his desk to be bare feet on wet dirt and his pencil, a shovel. 

The only test that matters I’ll tell him, is this: How far are you at any moment from who you really are?

If you don’t know, stop, breathe, go slow, remember, you are never that far.

And if you ever feel lost, I’ll remind him, of his personal compass––his own two hands.

I want him to wear his heart not on his sleeve but the center of his palms. So each time he holds anything, it’s from the bottom of his heart. I’ll say:

“This is a good place to start. Do everything out of love. Do everything out of love.”

When you come to a fork in the road and you don’t know which way to go.

Take the high, because honey, if there’s one thing I know about the low—it’s that you reap what you sow.

My son says mom, I love you more than chocolate bagels with cloud sprinkles. And I say, I love you all the way to Jupiter and back down, but slow like rain returning to the ocean.

Because I want him to feel life and love—but in slow motion.

If I have I one wish for you it’s that your heart just keeps expanding and when the wind blows hard you don’t fall, just lean—because you’re rooted, not just standing.

You see, there’s a gear and it’s for landing but be sure only to use it when necessary because otherwise, high above the trees, you see the panoramic view. You’ll see the mountains to the sea and all the inlets and valleys in between.

And these valleys you should walk on moonless nights.

To know the depth of your inner being, that is your birthright.

And the man you’ll be when you walk through will give you a whole new sense of the saying “be” not “do.”

When you face yourself head-on there’s no need to ever hide.

There’s no need to “play it cool” no place for empty pride.

And remember take this all, take this all in stride.

Life can be a series of disappointments and getting over disappointments.

It can also be a dance, danced backwards and a song where every note is just a little off.

But your job is not to make a perfect life but to fully own an imperfect one. 

Your job baby, is when the monsters come out of your closet, not to run, not to go out and buy a gun but to learn that this life is to be lived, not won.
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Author: Scarlet Wells

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

Photo: courtesy of the author