Happy to report the planned minor surgery my father had this morning was a success. I’ll visit him in the hospital Wednesday morning before his release Thursday.
He’d spent last night here (Sunday) and we stayed up talking; he did most of it and I listened gladly.
The old man was raised Catholic, then was nothing for awhile, and now recently due to “superstring theory” and singularities claims he cannot deny the potential for God’s existence as well as some metaphysics (how me made the jump to Lutheran, however, remains an unasked mystery).
I like to pretend my meditating with a realized Master a few years ago–who gave me Shaktipat–sowed seeds of spiritual Awakening in all my family members.
Dad choked up a few times, describing what I would call sparks of satori from his childhood. He was fortunate to grow up in an amazing part of Queens, New York City, called Blissville. He has seen and experienced many things today’s youth will never have known existed. My old man’s view is that progress is great, but has a terrible price, ironically, in things that can’t ever be measured. That sounds generic, yes, but only because I’m too lazy to describe what he talked about in detail.
Rather than leave the pauses to silence, we had a ridiculous movie on the tube while we chatted, which keeps the flow of “the convo” going and drowns out any awkward silences. It’s a useful tactic I’ll adopt if/when I ever engage in deeper discussions, with whom I have no idea.