Let It Begin With Me

Let it begin with me

I try and imagine what it was like when I entered the world on that cold day in February 1969 and although as a newborn I required the tender care from my parents, it still signified the beginning of me. Let it begin with me.

The process of creating and recreating me will undoubtedly be an ongoing genesis throughout my life; of this I’m sure. I liken my life now to seeking that perfect crème brulee. I’ll continue altering the recipe until it tastes perfect to me. (certainly not perfect in essence but perfect tasting to me at that very moment).

As I whisk through life and the days pass, I remember that my purpose is beyond self love, that it is to fulfill my destiny, yet, without the self love, I couldn’t possibly fulfill that destiny. My self love is my petrol. Without a car or map or destination, I am not living up to what these words mean to me.

I say this because I watched my Father die a painful death last year. My Father lived a life filled with books and isolation. It is an incredible eye opener to have your Father state in his last few sentences to you, his only child…that he isn’t afraid to die. That he has no regrets. That he loves me. That it was a good life. From where I observed all these years, it didn’t seem like such a good life. But that doesn’t matter. I wasn’t him. As I think of let it end with me, I hope that despite all the differences between my Father and myself, I can utter similar words as the me that started and the me that ends will feel this way. Self love. Purpose.