![]() I attended a community gratitude ritual last weekend. I've been going to this ritual on and off for years. It's so sweet to reconnect with loving people who have been there for me over the years. I was struck on Saturday morning how the sharing turned to the losses in our lives and how many people spoke of the loss of a mother or father and the grief they were experiencing in the midst of a weekend dedicated to gratitude. This sharing dropped the room down into a soulful, sacred space and people supported each other with compassionate eyes or a gentle hand on a shoulder. Grief and gratitude walk hand in hand. Our lives are complex and our souls hold many dichotomies simultaneously. Life is rarely all one or the other and actually, our work is to hold the seeming polarities and see the whole; love and power, light and dark, joy and sorrow, grief and gratitude. Which brings me to a particular piece which has been working in me. The loss of my father. Not just his death many years ago, but the absence in my life as he struggled with his own alcohol fueled demons. Fatherloss - the absence of that father energy and archetype in our lives as we grow up. The absence of a strong, loving, guiding, mentoring, wise man in a child's life. Some of us had this presence and some did not. I think there is a particular grounding afforded to a person when this energy has been imprinted on our psyche. A sense of a north star, a trust in myself, a rudder to sail on life's turbulent oceans is gifted to us. In the absence of the father, a wound is formed around belonging around a right sense of who I am. I know for my own situation, I have searched for my own north star, my own rudder, too many times deferring to others to define who I am. A recent awareness has been the shame I felt for wanting things to turn out right as the child longed for his father to stop drinking. The drinking didn't stop, so what the child wanted did not turn out and a shame crept in and stuck to the longing for connection. The adult in me knows that was then and now, a different path can open up. I have been blessed by wise mentors, Francis Weller being at the top of the list. As well as my clan brothers who alternate between brother and father. Through their love and wisdom I have started to put the pieces together. Since my Father's death, I've had conversations with him, offered apologies for the anger I held towards him and have tried to reclaim what was lost. This is rich territory. I've used poetry to work this terrain. I offer the two poems below as part of my own healing and perhaps a piece for you. Father and Son Abrazan (Reaching Out)
8 Comments
Sean Butler
11/28/2015 07:44:47 pm
"Fatherloss." Just naming it has intrinsic value, and you do so much more here, Jose. Thank you for sharing, with humble vulnerability. Your father hid behind alcohol. To this day I'm not sure what my father hid behind. He managed to hold out a hand now and then--to his credit some of those times were crucial--but a boy needs more than that to become a man. The few topics of conversation now available to us don't sustain a heart connection. I will be digesting your poems as part of my own journey down this road. Thank you....
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Jose Enciso
12/4/2015 12:26:25 pm
Sean,
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Brandon Brédo
11/28/2015 09:35:09 pm
Thank YOU Jose. Im feeling soO much of this. Your writing and recollection, your experience and reflection is medicine.
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Jose Enciso
12/4/2015 12:27:43 pm
Brandon,
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Richard Arat
11/29/2015 09:43:17 pm
Thank you Jose. I lost my father years ago to his wounds of his own "father loss" that I'm sure had been passed down for generations. I lost him 3 weeks ago to death. This is rich territory indeed and such an important topic. For me, only by entering the deep well of my own hurt was I able to see him for the man he was and in doing so let go of the man I wanted him to be. What used to be anger has been turned to grief and now compassion, a salve for my wounds. By grieving instead of raging and letting the unshed tears of my ancestors fall I will continue the healing. This parched earth needs our tears. Thank you for this invitation.
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Jose Enciso
12/4/2015 12:30:47 pm
Rich,
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David Moll
11/30/2015 09:21:45 pm
Your work continues to inspire and and impress upon me the need for this deeper reflection. I love that line in your poem, "Sometimes the final goodbye contains every hello that did not happen". Thank you for your sharing your wisdom.
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Jose Enciso
12/4/2015 12:32:09 pm
David,
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AuthorJose Enciso is an engineer by profession, a poet by necessity and a seeker of spirit and soul. He brings a gentle presence and deep respect for the interior journey as expressed through creative and expressive arts. Jose is a skilled group facilitator who is committed to the spiritual and psychological growth of those around him. He trained under Francis Weller to lead men’s initiation groups doing deep soul work and is equally comfortable in managing complex technical projects. Jose is devoted to the emergence of the divine feminine, supporting women and men claiming their voice and power, and rediscovering the soul of masculinity. He is currently working on multiple projects including a book which seeks to encourage everyone to write their own poetry as a discovery of their own soul's truth. Archives
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