As you grow older, your father becomes more invisible. Sadly, you tend to take for granted all the things your father taught you. This great article by committed father Christian Jurinka, “Driving With Dad“, brought back some happy memories.
I remember simple things like kicking the ball with my Dad or throwing the football.
Just the other day, the magnitude of one of my experiences hit me – learning to DRIVE. That’s right, when I was 8 Dad taught me how to drive.
The two-hour drive to my grandparents set the stage.
Leaving the neighbourhood and city streets, my excitement built, as I knew that once we hit the highway, it would be my time to drive.
I kept eagerly asking, “Dad, can I drive?” Finally, he let me steer from the passenger seat. That’s how it started. It evolved into me sitting on his lap.
You can imagine the mix of emotions running through my mind – excitement, nervousness, and disbelief. Dad coached me along the way, “Stay within the lines,” he would say. “Don’t grip the steering wheel too hard.”
What stuck most was his guidance about keeping my eyes on the horizon, not watching what was right in front of me.
This was magical advice.
It freed me from the need for micro-adjustments and trying to stay perfectly between the lines.
Instead, I learned how to focus on the big picture, easing through the big, sweeping turns that only an open road can provide.
That simple advice, “Keep your eyes on the horizon,” has become a bedrock principle in my life. When met with adversity I try to look at the bigger picture to see if the toils of the day were aiding me in achieving this larger vision.
In a world that sometimes seems to have a cut and run approach, grit, determination and stick-to-itiveness is a scarce commodity.
It’s more critical than ever to stay focused on the big picture.
We need to keep our eyes on the horizon to best see the warning signs, avoid the bumps, and know when to exit the road.
As I drive, I am constantly reminded of that sage advice delivered to a little boy driving with Dad at 8 years old.
Thanks, Dad!
Like Christian, the writer of the story, my dad let me steer the car while seated next to him. I was only 12 years of age. I felt so proud. In some ways, it was the rite of passage ceremony I never had, but desperately needed.
At that point, I had only spent a bit more than half of my life with my father due to family friction between mum and dad. So, I was hungry for my father’s love and affirmation.
The Brown Ooze
Gordon Dalbey, writer of the breakthrough book Healing the Masculine Soul, calls it the “Brown Ooze”. This excerpt from the book tells the story well.
What does a boy gain from having a father present that men today must remember?
Apart from such ‘manly’ skills as business, carpentry, and auto repair – which a knowledgeable mother might teach equally well – what does the father communicate or impart to a boy that the mother cannot?
The most intriguing answer came to me after a long session of prayer and healing with a thirty-year-old man whose father had severely rejected him.
“Sure, Dad hurt me terribly at times,” he said. “But I remember once, when my brother and I were about six and four, sitting on the bed with Dad, one of us under each of his arms as he told us a bedtime story.
“I don’t remember what the story was, but I’ll never forget feeling there was something different about him that I’d never felt from Mom – something hard to describe, but definitely masculine, like a kind of brown ooze coming out of him and going into us little boys.”
Fascinating! I thought – then wondered: Where have I experienced the ‘brown ooze’ myself?
Praying later, I thought of years ago, when I was a small boy, and my father was a Navy officer stationed aboard a ship.
When the fleet went to sea, I missed Dad as deeply as I rejoiced, on seeing him in his khaki uniform open the door, squat down with arms open, and call to me, “I’m home! How’s my boy?”
Heart racing, I sprinted to him and threw my arms tightly around his neck as he lifted me high off the ground in his secure embrace…
When my sisters and I finally gave him a chance, he set his hat on the table and embraced Mother – whereupon I turned with awe and approached the table reverently, to do what my mother and sisters could not do.
Slowly, with both hands, I lifted The Hat. As if to crown myself, I angled its thick band and strong, hard visor sharply off my forehead and down the back of my neck; otherwise, laid squarely on my head, it covered my face down to my chin.
In the embrace, in The Hat, I was one with my father – certified as a man-to-be, anointed with the brown ooze.
Here is an interview I did many years ago with Gordon Dalbey, the author of Healing the Masculine Soul, about the “Brown Ooze.” This one interview is part of a ten-part series.
Lovework
So, start your children as early as you can driving a car. Farms are great places for this, as are disused aerodromes.
The good news is that most state governments across Australia mandate between 50-120 hours of driving experience for those teenagers who want to get their driver’s licences. Remember that, as a father, the time you spend teaching your children to drive is much more important than just getting a driver’s licence.
It is about the big picture. It is about keeping your eyes on the horizon of life. It is about the healing that can come from the masculine soul. Carpe Diem. Enjoy!
Yours for our Children,
Warwick Marsh
___
Republished with thanks to Dads4Kids. Image courtesy of Adobe.