In the quiet moments of reflection, truths have a way of surfacing. They aren’t always the loud revelations we expect, but they come gently, revealing what has always been just below the surface. Recently, in one of those meditative states, a conversation with my father emerged—not in the physical sense, but in spirit, in the kind of way where you know the words are true even though they were never spoken out loud even though they were one summer night around the dawn of the new millennium.
It went something like this:
“Dad, I sold over $100 worth of paintings tonight.”
I felt that pride welling up in me, wanting to share the good news with him. The same man who had always been my toughest critic but also my biggest supporter.
“I know, and I’m so proud of you,” his voice echoed in my mind, steady and warm.
But then, the nagging voice of doubt creeped in, as it often does. Success can sometimes feel like a fleeting moment, and in those quiet times, the "what ifs" can flood in.
“But what if I had sold no paintings? What would you do?” I asked him, needing reassurance, wondering if my worth in his eyes was tied to my achievements.
“I would still be a proud father.”
There it was. The revelation. My father's pride wasn’t rooted in what I achieved or how much money I made. His pride came from seeing me—his child—pursue something with passion, despite the obstacles. It wasn’t about the $100 in sales or the paintings on the wall. It was about the dedication, the love, and the courage to put myself out there.
In that moment of meditation, I realized something profound: we often seek validation from the outside world, attaching our self-worth to accomplishments, sales, or recognition. But true pride—the kind that comes from someone who loves you unconditionally—doesn’t hinge on those things. It’s about showing up, trying, and being authentically yourself.
My father, in life and in this quiet conversation, reminded me that it’s not about the external wins or losses. It’s about the journey, the effort, and the heart you put into your work. Whether I sold 100 paintings or none at all, his pride—and my own self-worth—remain unchanged.
So, here’s to the revelations that come when we pause, listen, and allow ourselves to hear the deeper truths. And here’s to my father, who taught me that his love, and pride, will always be there—no matter the outcome.
by Dan and Bonkers
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