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It Cracked Me Open!


A Column by Greg Hermann

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During a recent conversation with a friend, we shared experiences of holding our first grandchild. She spoke of the emotional change in her husband when he held his grandchild for the first time. I shared my experience as well. The question was asked “Why is it so different with grandchildren than with our own children?” I responded “It cracked me open.” Yes, it cracked me open!

Now I sit and ponder this statement. What did I have so tightly protected? What was I protecting, guarding, hiding? What was it that required the purity of a newborn granddaughter to crack it open? Now, 6 years later, I can identify a nameless sacred space that was filled with the presence of this wee person in all her innocence, dependence, and need. There was a realization that my son and his wife brought this wee being into the world and were joyfully willing to share her with us.

I think of my relationship with my son. As a teen aged boy struggling for his manhood, he and I shared little more than our physical space at home. We could not discuss anything of relevance (to me at least). I was jealous of his openness with his mother. We didn’t fight or argue. We just didn’t talk about the important father-son stuff. Now, as adults, we share an intimacy beyond my expectations. Evidently, I was able to see my son as a man as I held his newborn daughter in my arms. When this happened, I was speechless for three hours. The crack was widening and I was becoming.

As I share these thoughts, I am resting in a space that I have visited very infrequently. I am filled with gratitude, serenity, grace and a nameless awareness of wonder and awe. I believe - I know that the meditation practice gifted from our ancients has brought me to this place. I invite you to your space. I invite you to be cracked open. I pray you find yourself beside restful waters.

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