Eighteen Months

The other night we went to see Feist and even though it was a Sunday it turned out to be the perfect day for the show. All night long we listened to her ethereal voice shimmy around our brains, begging to carry on just enough to survive the evening. Her voice is so haunting and delicate that it feels like the world can't contain it forever. Someday it seems it will fade and even the memory won't quite hold true even if she's become digitized immortality. It really was quite impressive.

But what does that have to do with being a father? Two things actually.

I've really been struck deeply to the core of my being with every creative spectacle that we've partaken of in the last couple of weeks. I feel the heat of inspiration rising up within me. Something that both Xtina and I have always agreed upon regarding how we are going to raise Lucas is that he must do something that will encourage him to explore his creative intuition in some way. Music, Art, Poetry, Film, Anything that will help him tap into that deep inner soul that furthers his imaginative experience. The value that it provides in our lives is extraordinary and we don't want Lucas to miss that natural self-guidance.

So, at the show it turns out that the band that Feist plays with and records with is a group of brothers who all play various instruments. After watching them play with such joy I started wondering about the environment those guys were raised in. I can only imagine. I have grown to truly love music, so much so that at times Xtina must request that we have quiet time since the stereo always seems to be on, but I never learned how to play an instrument. I was never given the tools durng my youth and even though we often talk about the bands we're going to form, right now all we seem to be doing is talking.

This is a common problem for so many people in the world. The plans of our most noble intentions often don't go beyond the words that come out of our mouths. I don't want that to happen to my little guy. He constantly has music in his environment, everywhere he goes, everyday we catch him shaking his tiny little butt to some crazy pop song that belts forth from our speakers. I hope that we can encourage him to embrace the joy that I witnessed on the stage the other night with Feist and the musician brothers. Life really is joyful when you express yourself with deep emotion creatively. It's the true spirit of freedom.

Freedom that can't be controlled beyond your skin.

Another thing that came up after seeing the show is that Xtina's mother told us a story about her friend who took her eleven-year-old and seven-year-old children to a Black Eyed Peas show on the same Sunday night. At first it didn't really bother me that much that this woman would do that, despite the fact that I would never take anyone to see that band nor wish it upon anyone else, but each of us are attracted to our own demons for various reasons, right? I always imagined that I would be one of those parents that would take my children anywhere, unencumbered by the rules that society tries to impose upon me. I would take him camping and skiing and to museums and to experience many different cultures and...to concerts, but once I started to think about it I realized that I wouldn't take him to a concert. Not now. The music's too damn loud and he'd probably hate it anyway. He may love music when I play Jens Lekman on 15 at home, but he doesn't want it pounding his brain because that tiny brain is just too delicate right now. But would I take him when he's ten and he wants to see the new version of Jens Lekman that all the kids at his school can't stop talking about? Will I introduce him to that world or shy away with the fear that I am bringing him to a world that is a notorious gateway to the seedier side of life?

I really don't know how to answer that now. I'm glad I don't have to. I've been farely confident with the choices I've made and I know that right now he pretty much accepts what I tell him, but the day will come when those difficult choices will raise their ugly heads and I hope that I'm up to the task of enlightening his life...or at least just enough not to send him into the dark spiral to hell.

Who knows? We'll just have to wait and see. Why am I thinking about all of this stuff anyway? He's only a year and a half.