You Are the Light Shining In My Eyes

Friday marks the 10 year anniversary of my father's passing. So much has happened in these years, since that incredibly sunny August morning: 8/8.
I am reminded of a phrase that came to me, just prior to my dad's passing:

"He is the light shining in my eyes" and "I am the light shining in his eyes."

This phrase translates the over arching theme of my relationship with dad. He was a bright light, but sometimes his shine was harsh to my sensitive gaze. He, ironically felt that I cast a judge mental look upon him, and so we triggered one another in this way. Each of us "too much" for the "other'.

Dad was brash, made "adult" jokes, sometimes made fun of me, had little patience for my sensitivity, and was a bit of a bully. Dad was a meditator, on the cutting edge of scientific and spiritual discovery, was an avid reader, and a yogic practitioner to the core. He was arrogant and humorous, a bit of a show off and he was a lover. It was a lot for a child to hold. It shaped and formed me. I was like a tiny sprout of a flower growing under the light of my father's presence.

My experience of myself in relationship to others has been that I can feel that I am "too much" emotionally. This may be true, or I may have been branded by my 23 year old father from the time I was an infant. Still, I have his genes. He had the intensity as well.  In part, this intensity serves me very well in my work or in my myriad accomplishments. Point me in a direction and obsession can be extremely productive. When seeking is directed to the heavens or the universal force that connects us, one to the other, this drive is pure potential. The experience of being driven is transcendent and this is all passed down from my father to me. I believe that this was passed from my grandfather to my father....and now, here I sit holding this powerful light.

How many times have you questioned who you really are? Your authentic self and all of it's gifts. Some may say "flaws", but nature makes no mistakes.

Shame is involved. Yes, shame. I am unclear as why, but it certainly a feeling that vibrates my cells and has me nervously urgent to somehow shout it out, or give it away.

Stillness. Finding center stage, finding my place in the "light" is the answer. There it is again: the light shining in my eyes.  I look out into the dark. All I can see is the light shining on me. There is no more Lloyd Ingber. It is me, standing alone, looking out into the dark and the audience awaiting the performance. What do I want to say?

My art today wants to say: You are not too much. You being fully you and standing in your power takes nothing away from anybody else. I celebrate you, exactly as you are by expressing and being exactly who I am. I want to say, come here and let me feel your beating heart even though I can't see you. I want to say "yes!" I want to say "you were in here all along".

"There is nothing to be afraid of."

I want to say: " I am not too much. I am the light shining in your eyes, and you are the light shining in my eyes. "

It's been quite a decade, Lloyd Ingber. Thank you. Each time I look up at the sun, I think of you.