Life: Happy Birthday, Dad!

My dad turns 57 today. Those coming from good Catholic families will not be surprised that he is named Patrick (tomorrow is, as even the Godless heathens know, St. Patrick’s Day).

Here is an old picture (very old) with me at about the age of 6. Dad trained me as a pool shark early in life. And though I’ve taken up a way of life quite far removed from anything he could have imagined, I am very lucky and appreciative that he still makes me feel that he is proud of me.

In Buddhism, the appreciation of one’s parents is of utmost importance. They are the ones to whom we owe the very conditions for our existence, it is they who have given up so much to see us through our younger years. In a sense that includes people for whom ‘parents’ may not be their actual biological parents. I am fortunate and grateful that I was raised by two wonderful and happily married individuals.

In certain meditation, we bring to mind our parents, bring to mind all that they have provided for us and the love and appreciation that this cultivates. For people who have had troubles with parents this can be difficult. But the fact is, that even if you had the most horrible parents ever (and if you’re reading this now it probably means you didn’t), you still owe your physical being to them, clearly and directly; and that is something to be ever so thankful for. This is a sticking point lots of people need to get over before going on.

In the meditation, one is supposed to then to consider all beings, imagining the whole world of creatures, and to realize that in the beginningless rounds of rebirth each of them has at some point been your mother and your father. So the love and appreciation you’ve kept isolated to your parents (in this life) should trickle out toward all beings: barriers, stereotypes, prejudices and so on should be chipped away, slowly moving one to a deep sense of love and gratitude toward all.
(in the collage, from the top left is my dad in the bus as we traveled from Stansted airport London, to near Gatwick airport London; Dad with me at my high school graduation, Dad with Mom in front of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, Spain, Mom and dad having lunch in Dingle, Ireland, and finally my mother, sister, and father in Plaza Catalunya, Barcelona, Spain)