- It's about dads, too.
- It's about all creative endeavors, not just writing.
- It also applies to reading.
I'm a dad. Obviously. So I don't have some of the same biological explanations that moms do for how having a child has changed me. Women carry the cells of their babies for the rest of their lives, and vice versa. As far as I know, other than the genetic material I supplied to get that process started, I don't have the same kind of physical connection with my son, but there's still an undeniable connection. I don't feel his cry in my body the way my wife does, but I still feel it. His presence in this world has made an enormous difference in the landscape of my inner self. I've also grown closer to his mommy, my wife. I've loved her deeply since the day we met (as with so many men, it took me awhile to figure this out, but I really do believe it was there from the start), but something changed when she starting making our son from scratch inside her belly. Again, as is sadly typical of men, it took me awhile to figure this out, to honor it, to trust it, but it's been there for almost 9 years now. While the author of the aforementioned blog writes she "once held fast to the feminist narrative that having children wouldn’t define" her, I totally understand what she means. The masculine narrative that having children won't change us seems ancient and instinctive; it's similar to the tired old yarn that being in a relationship won't change us. Neither of these notions serves us. We are denying a reality we can't change. Being in a relationship changes us, whether that relationship is a new friend, a co-worker, a lover, a spouse, or a child. To quote a pastor speaking to the newcomers every week in her congregations, "we are different when you are here." Furthermore, we are different after we've met you. No one can stand in the same river twice, and humanity is a river with a very powerful flow.
So, yeah, being a dad has changed me. No doubt. And who I am goes very directly into everything I create. It's somehow comforting to think my creative voice somehow transcends this, but there's really nothing comfortable about my creative voice; never has been, and (hopefully) never will be. I've grown out of the youthful, romantic notion that I have to suffer for my art, but that doesn't mean I'm every truly comfortable when I'm in a creative state. The best work I've ever done in my life, starting from a young age, are when I'm not sure whether it's good or not. It's a constant struggle. That's why I push myself to do and try new things, to write when I'm more comfortable working with sound, to work differently within the medium I am (relatively) comfortable in, why I shy away from using templates for the final mix on a project (which is, for me, the most creative part)....
One of the great changes I've noticed is that my attention span has changed. It's not that it's gotten shorter or longer, it's that my brain has gotten used to interruptions. These can be literal interruptions, as this morning when I was trying to finish reading the blog post and my son was literally standing on my office chair behind me and tickling my neck with his (or my) hair. The more surprising ones, though, are when I'm at work, in a dark room, far from the literal distractions of fatherhood, and I find myself deep in thought about my wife or my son or our dog. The landscape of fatherhood follows me everywhere I go. And it's a good view.
