I saw my dad in the mirror this morning

The older I get, the more I notice the pieces of my dad woven into my everyday life.

I brush my hair like my dad.

As I look at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair back, parting it, then fluffing it, I can’t help but see my dad too. I have so many memories from so many vantage points, watching from different heights as I got taller and from different sinks as we moved homes. Though many things changed around us, my dad’s routine stayed the same.

And then it hits me that most of my self-care routine is like my dad’s. It is a piece of him that lives inside my being.

I loved watching my dad get ready. I enjoyed the consistency of his routine, and looking back I also appreciate his dedication. Very rarely does my dad miss his morning routine. I know now my dad was teaching me how to consider Self, whether he meant to or not. My dad taught me the importance of caring for one’s Self.

Unfortunately, I no longer remember the order, but I can name the steps. Every morning he would eat a banana and give part of it to me. (It took me a while to realize I don't actually like bananas but I always associated them with a connection to my dad so I thought I loved them.)

After his shower, he would put on lotion, start brushing his teeth, brush all his hair back, part it, then fluff it , do his face workout (don't ask), shave, and make what I always thought were funny faces while doing so, his stretches, and eventually finish brushing his teeth and depending on if he was in a mouthwash phase, gargle.

I can picture his light mustard yellow, soft-bristled, round brush that he would use in his hair. I can still picture and hear the sound of my dad shaving and brushing his teeth.

I don't know how to explain it, but the way he and I brush our teeth, the motion and the cadence create a specific and similar noise.

As I am sitting with these memories, other memories flood through. The recent giggle attack Spencer and I had last week, when he made note of how weird I brush my teeth. Or remembering a comment when I got my hair cut short, about how my falls similarly to my dad’s

Obviously, if we are using the same styling technique, our hair is going to fall similarly…

These aren't things I didn't know per se, but they were, until this moment, things I didn't think to or maybe forgot to appreciate.

I forgot to appreciate the things about me that are also about my dad 

…and whoever he learned them from.

Yes, I am an individual, and I make my own choices, feel my own feelings, think my own thoughts AND I am an individual belonging to so many systems constantly affecting me and shaping me whether I asked them to or not.

This is why I value self-reflection so heavily, because eventually, you reflect long enough, you begin to see others, too, in varying contexts.

Congruency isn't linear, nor is it a clear progression of steps. It is a messy, chaotic interconnectedness of Self, Other, and Context, and though we talked about them in theory as separate in reality and practice, it is all interwoven and connected.

I imagine this is not what people think about when they dream of a legacy they will pass on, however, it is a part of how I think of my own legacy. All my actions, big and small, have an effect whether I meant them to or not and I hope to always do my best considering my Self, Other, and the context so I can contribute to making the world a better place. From morning routines to my core values, I hope what I offer the world is something worth keeping alive.

It’s funny how, with Father's Day this week, I am finding myself thinking about inheritance.

Not the big things. Not family names, accomplishments, or milestones.

The small things.

The habits we pick up without realizing it. The routines we witness thousands of times. The ways people shape us simply by being themselves.

This week, I found myself standing in front of a mirror brushing my hair and suddenly noticed something that had been true for years.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad