Nothing extraordinary has happened today. And perhaps that is precisely why I want to write about it.
I'm lying on my bed. There is a gentle light in the room. Outside, I can hear the rain, and right up against me is Batres. He's lying down too. He looks at me from time to time, then settles back into his quiet rest.
We're doing nothing. And how wonderful it is to be able to say that.
Because as I listen to the rain falling, I've started thinking about my life, my children, everything that has happened, and how I feel now. And the word that comes to me is very simple: peace.
— ◆ —
My son is finding his own way
I think about my children a lot. Today, I'm thinking especially about my son and how he's starting to manage on his own. He goes to work by himself. He's earning his own money so he can buy his own things.
It may seem like a small thing. To me, it isn't. As a father, watching your son start to walk on his own brings a feeling that is difficult to explain. It doesn't mean he no longer needs me. It means he's growing. And seeing it makes me feel deeply proud.
Not just because of me. Raising a child never belongs to one person alone. But I can look at this moment in our lives and think: we're moving forward.
And I'm also discovering something I needed to discover: I can be a good father while being myself.
— ◆ —
After the divorce
There is another part of this calm that is a little harder for me to write about. My divorce.
Saying that a separation has brought me peace may feel uncomfortable. A marriage holds many years, many stories, and many things known only to those who have lived through them. I don't want to turn this into a judgment of anyone. I can only speak about myself.
For a long time, I had a feeling that I can now recognize more clearly: always being on alert in case I bothered someone. Wondering whether what I did made someone uncomfortable. Whether what I said made someone uncomfortable. Whether being who I am could make someone uncomfortable. And living like that eventually wears you out.
Now I feel something different. I'm not rushing. I'm calm. I can be at home without that feeling of being on alert. I can listen to the rain. I can lie down with my dog. I can think about my children. I can work. I can sit in silence. And, above all, I can be myself.
— ◆ —
Self-esteem can be quiet too
During our conversation, I was trying to find a word to explain what all of this was giving me. First, I thought of strength. Then the exact word appeared: self-esteem.
And I've realized that self-esteem isn't always about feeling powerful. Sometimes it's much simpler. It's getting up in the morning without feeling that you have to apologize for being who you are. It's living your life without constantly thinking that you're bothering someone. It's feeling at ease with yourself.
It's knowing that you have responsibilities—many of them—and accepting them, but without ceasing to exist within them yourself. I'm a father. I'm responsible for my son. I have a daughter whom I love. I have my work, my academy, my projects, and all the ordinary worries of any life. But underneath all of that, I'm still there. And now I feel that I'm finding that person again.
— ◆ —
Batres, the rain, and this moment
Batres is still here, right up against me, as I think about all of this. And perhaps tomorrow this scene will seem insignificant. A bed. A dog. A dimly lit room. The rain outside. Nothing more.
But there are moments in life that don't need to be big to be important. Perhaps happiness is this too. Not having to rush. Not feeling guilty. Knowing that your children are growing. Feeling that you can care for them without disappearing yourself. Being at ease in your own home. And being able to say, without fear: this is my life, and I am at peace with it.
I've been through things I wouldn't have chosen. But I also understand that some stages have to end so that we can carry on.
Tonight, listening to the rain with Batres by my side, I think I understand it a little better.
You always have to leave something behind when you want to keep moving forward.
And perhaps moving forward doesn't always mean running ahead. Sometimes moving forward is simply being able to stay still... and finally feel at peace.
AlitaDePollo