Yesterday I saw the new Bruce Springsteen inspired movie Blinded by the Light. I loved the film and cried all the way through it. The movie was made for me because it had all the necessary storylines to reel me in and I was highly attentive until the closing credits rolled.

Those storylines were: Father and son relationship, racism, sexism, adolescent angst, search for oneself and working-class folks losing their jobs accompanied by the soundtrack of Bruce Springsteen hitting all the right notes.

The father and son story line resonated with me the most. My father died suddenly when I was fifteen years old and I have struggled with his loss most of my life. The interaction between the dad and son showed varied states of closeness that usually has me longing to have that elusive meeting with my dad.

I longed for him to tell me that he loved me. I imagined telling him how much I missed and needed his love. But you know what? The bitter sense of loss experienced at these moments didn’t happen. Instead, I felt serene. I didn’t know why I felt so peaceful and relaxed, but I didn’t try to spoil the moment by trying to figure it out either.

My focus has changed. My identity for years was a man who was permanently wounded because his father died when he was a teen. I felt lost and alone for so long, but suddenly I turned a corner.

When scenes of discord or connection happened between father and son during Blinded by the Light, I did not fall off the edge or sink into the darkness. Instead I noticed the ten-minute smile on my face.

I realize I have so much to be grateful for. That insight overrode the usual despair. Sometimes a new feeling comes up. Instead of pushing that feeling away or dissolving it by over analyzation, I stayed with it.

Maybe I made this change because I have been an ongoing therapy client as well as a therapist. Maybe I stayed with the positive vibes because I really connected with my sister, Marion through music when she visited last week. She and I sang together while she played keyboards and I played guitar. It was like magic! I am beginning to understand how powerful those moments were.

I have close friends and I have passions! I love to write blogs, books and songs. I love to play guitar and congas. I love being a therapist and helping clients find their voices.

I have made it through a life-threatening health crisis. I love to run twenty-five miles per week and listen to music while doing so. I have been married for forty-seven years to Gail Meadows. The word soul mate is thrown around a lot these days, but Gail is my true soul mate. We work through whatever conflicts we have; no matter how difficult. We have so much in common that we always have plenty to talk about. I am still as strongly attracted to her as I was when she was nineteen.

I am also lucky to be living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, San Francisco!

Does that mean that I won’t ever be sad or angry again? No. Does it mean that I won’t suffer from losses as time moves on? No. My heart will get broken at times, but I’m not broken.