I resist exploring the feelings I’m left with after my father leaves. It's sensitive and hurts to touch ..which makes me feel a little bit ashamed because I think I should have gotten over them by now. Things like: I don’t think I’m good enough ..interesting enough ..or smart enough to sustain his interest ..leave me with feelings of inadequacy. I don’t think he enjoys visiting me and seems uncomfortable. I fall somewhere outside his field of interest ..not in-tune with his view of the world ..which I attribute to his depression-era, New York upbringing ..where his perceptions of the world were formed ..and serve as a point of reference ..making the things I say or do seem too West Coast and inconceivably weird ..things like journal writing and zen practice.
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