Those two boys to my left are my sons when they were much younger and I subscribed to a much different paradigm of life, so different in fact that what I am about to write would have been unthinkable when this photo was taken.

All my life, I have hid behind my ability to write, spin tales, mesmerize (myself) with philosophical anecdotes that I now believe reflected a very limited conscious awareness of me and the world. As a white man, I am afforded the opportunity to not have to cultivate the ability to engage in any kind of ‘double consciousness.’ This term describes how marginalized peoples view themselves due to their racialized and other forms of oppression and devaluation in a white-dominated society.

My Consciousness
This kind of consciousness, however, leads to deeper reflections of self, world, and the relationship between the two. As a white man, I have not had to look at myself or my actions in such deep ways or through the eyes of others.

In my doctoral program, my focus is on transformation and dismantling the hero’s journey as a relevant conceptual metaphor in a world in the midst of an ecological crisis. This crisis, I contend, begins in the heart—and for me as a white man, I must deconstruct thousands of years’ worth of cultural assumptions in order to understand my heart or that of any other life form.

My Heart
To reconnect with my heart, I must open it up and share it. A couple months ago, a friend of mine in the PhD program at California Institute of Integral Studies (CIIS) put up a post about being vulnerable and sharing one’s heart and how that is the absolute most powerful action one can commit. The sentiment rocked my world, and I realized that is the one thing I had never done in my entire life.

No, I have hid from people all my life, fearing that my delicate sensitivities could not withstand the harsh realities of the world. I packaged myself for people. I’m the philosopher, the dad, (secretly) heartfelt man, the writer, the marketer, the fundraiser, etc. What I did not realize, however, was that I was a fraud.

Not once in my life, until recently, had I shared my pain. I held and compartmentalized everything inside. I held my pain, and what I have realized is not only is that weak, it is destructive—and I refuse to continue the charade that was my life.

My Pain
My two sons are in jail and have been for a few years. I have privately held onto this pain and cry by myself. I even held this information from my partner, who lived apart from me. I could not bring myself to share my story, and the damage that I caused by holding back my pain and vulnerability is unfathomable.

I fell into such a dark place in my heart, but I acted as if I was fine. I had press releases to write, websites to build, boxes to check, miles to run. I was fine, I said, to my parents. I shared my life with no one. I thought I was ‘the hero’ in my own story.

As I continue to evolve and explore transsubjectivity, a liminal space in which my conscious interpretation of reality both informs and is informed by my experiences of everything, I feel an interconnectedness. I am no longer a single man alone on some path, but rather a strand woven into myself, others, and the world. I was not fine. I had a broken heart and slipped into a deep and dark depression, unsure of anything in the world given my inability as a dad to somehow redirect my sons from unfortunate choices.

In December 2022, my longtime partner and I split—and she was and still is a supernatural human being to me, so lovely in every way. My inability to embrace myself, love, or even her, however, had devastating consequences, and the unthinkable occurred when we parted ways.

I am still in love with this woman and will always love her, and yet the pain I experienced opened up a pathway on which I now walk with attention and care. This latest file in The Philosopher Files is my attempt to accept my responsibilities and share my vulnerabilities.

My Apology
Until December 2022, I lived a life in the shadows, holding onto ideas, feelings, perceptions, and ways of being that appeared fine to the outside world, but were privately destructive. My personal life reflected my internal chaos.

At the same time, I had countless conversations throughout my life where I expressed knowledge on something. I (subtly) dismissed perspectives, acted impatiently, and otherwise did not consider the feelings or ideas of others in the ways that I believe with all my heart are so essential to a compassionate life.

To anyone with whom I ever spoke prior to December 2022, I apologize for not holding you with the love I feel in my heart but was afraid to express. I have hurt people, chopped down trees, stepped on spiders, and acted in ways that do not reflect a love I hold for the universe and everything in it. To every life form—even in microscopic form—I apologize and thank you for your existence.

To my parents, I love you. Your consistency and support has been a rock in my otherwise fluid existence that often times flows in directions I could neither understand or love. As you age, I feel new emotions and will watch over you to ensure you are safe and happy as you define these terms.

To my sons, I love you with all my being. I would not change you in any way nor would I wish you to be different. I am proud to be your dad and love being your father. I have cried a million tears of joy and a million tears of pain as your dad, and each drop was beautiful. The love I feel for you has no conditions. I cherish you both.

To the woman who went on her own path in December 2022, I am sorry in all universes. I really did see you, and I believe you saw me, too. The love I felt and feel for you is wild, durable, expanding, textured, soft, gentle, malleable, regenerative, evolving, real, forever, boundless and will never dissipate. I love you more each day regardless as to whether or I not I ever see you again. You are that kind of woman.

To the universe, I have infinite love, which does not mean I will not make mistakes, or feel sad, or confused. It does, however, mean that I have stepped outside the shadows of myself…