My Dearest Son,
The world is burning, but you, you are swimming. Floating in a peaceful sea that is rapidly becoming too small to contain you. How do I know this? I can feel you resisting its boundaries, bashing, raising your head, yearning to feel the warmth of the sun for the first time. Well, to you, little man, I say rage! You are right to do so. There is no space large enough to contain you, and you should never accept the limitations of your own perceived existence. The world is burning, and we need you.
Witnessing the events unfolding around me as I await your birth, I cannot help but ask myself, “Why now? With all of this, how could I possibly bring you into such a cruel, tumultuous place?” I don’t always have an answer, but tonight, I am recklessly filled with hope for what you will bring with you. Every generation has built upon the foundations laid by those before. We are trying, but the journey towards progress is never an easy one or a straight line, so we, like those before us, are failing. And progress today, as it has so many times before, appears to only be possible after devastation.
But the devastation doesn’t represent all of us, or even most of us. You are an heir to a throne. It is not a throne made for ruling. It is a throne made for serving. You will be surrounded by those who believe in its power, and you will see, through their example, that no matter the depth of devastation, there will always be hands reaching out to lift you up. That is what I see tonight. There are people who want to take and take and take, but I am looking right on past them. I am looking to those who are giving. They are giving their resources to those with none, they are giving their ears to those who are screaming, and they are giving their bodies to those who need a shield. That is your inheritance, my son, not because I embody all these things, but because I will teach you to see and hear those who do.
And one day, like all other sons, you will surpass your father. I will become the one incapable of keeping up with progress, and that is when your time truly begins. I expect you- nay, urge you- to rage against me in that time. Because we cannot continue to allow our world to languish in the thoughts of old men, even when those of us who once clawed our ways forward become the very mire out of which we once climbed. I know you will do this because you won’t have any other choice. It is in your blood, and accepting tyranny, even the tyranny of thought will just simply not be an option.
Your revolution will be one based on the most foundational of human emotions, selflessness. You will see that there is no one more or less important than you, and if the members of our species are to continue to survive, they can only do so together. There will be noise, so much noise, and it will trick you. You will believe the noise is truth, that the world is full of bad men, but you will shake it off and continue your march, knowing that even though they may be quiet, the good men are legion and they are standing at your back.
I cannot wait to teach you everything I know, and then to step back and listen as you teach me. I can’t do this alone. We can’t do this alone. The world is burning, and we need you.
Love,
Dad