Father's Day Note From the Field: The Noise Inside
- Henry-Cameron Allen
- Jun 12
- 3 min read
by Henry-Cameron Allen, OCP, ICGC
Founder, The Lost Travelers Club, Award-winning author of The Lost Traveler's Field Guide: Navigating the Grief Journey Through a Quantum Lens
June 13, 2025

Brothers,
Father's Day can be noisy for us.
Not the joyful noise—the kind that used to fill the room with belly laughs, the patter of little feet upstairs, squeals of delight when arms flung around our necks like anchor ropes. I mean the noise inside.
The wailing.
The screaming pressure.The mournful melancholy. The media echoes of "Happy Father's Day!!" that sound more like static than celebration. The voice going back generations that says, "Be strong, be a man," while your whole chest is breaking open with tears.
There's a storm in every grieving father's head. Questions with no answers. Choked silence where there used to be jokes, lullabies, and silly bedtime stories. The hard memories that show up uninvited... like when you catch yourself buying their favorite food at the store, and leave you weeping breathlessly in aisle seven.
We've been taught, programmed really, to fight this noise. To stifle it. To bottle it up. To bury it somewhere deeper than words can reach.
But here's what I want to offer today—from one Peregrine Papa to another, one griefwalking father to the next:
What if the noise inside isn't the enemy it seems to be?
What if it's your child, living and calling to you from within your heart?
A Different Kind of Science
I've been thinking about this differently since reading about some fascinating research in quantum physics. For decades, scientists believed that noise—disruption, interference, static—was the great enemy of quantum connection. That even the slightest disturbance would snap the delicate thread between two particles entangled across space and time.
But recent studies have turned that belief upside down.
This very year, 2025, researchers have discovered that under certain conditions, noise can actually enhance entanglement rather than destroy it. When they connected two chains of particles and introduced carefully structured noise to one side, something remarkable happened: instead of weakening the link, the noise strengthened it. The two systems became more entwined, more coherent.
The very thing they thought would break the bond reinforced it.
When the noise carries memory, when it moves through the system with intention, it doesn't just disturb the signal—it redistributes the connection. Scientists call this the monogamy of entanglement: connection isn't destroyed by noise, but redirected, deepened, transformed.
And I thought: That's what I call SUPERGRIEF. The transformative process of turning profound sorrow into personal growth, resilience, and strength.
The Connection That Endures
You and I, we remain connected to our children. Not just in memory, but in something deeper. Something unbreakable.
Sometimes, brothers, the noise we feel—the ache, the confusion, the storm inside—isn't failure. It's proof of the connection. It's the string vibrating. It's Love, alive, but in a different form.
Just like in those quantum experiments, when we carry the noise, our bond doesn't break at all… it deepens.
In the quantum world, they call the stabilizing part of the system the ancilla—the helper, the witness, the one that holds the disruption so the connection can endure.
That's us.
We carry the noise not because we're broken, but because we remember. Because we love. Because we are fathers—present tense.
And love like ours doesn't go quiet.
Today and Every Day
So if today is loud in your head or heavy in your chest, know this: You're not alone.
You're not doing it wrong.
You're not losing the connection.
You're living it.
Differently. Bravely. Beautifully.
Whether you find meaning in science, in faith, in Love itself, or in the simple truth that a father's heart knows no ending. The principle remains: what looks like disconnection might be connection in a new form.
From one Peregrine Papa to another, to all Lost Travelers on this difficult journey, I see you. I honor you. I carry my noise beside yours. This Father’s Day and always.
This is not the end of the story. This is a new beginning.
It's the sound of Love, resonating. Unfolding. Endless.
Let it be.
Want to explore your own SUPERGRIEF with fellow Lost Travelers? Join our monthly virtual retreat where Peregrines and other griefwalkers carry our inner noise together and find connection in community. RSVP here: https://letsreimagine.org/collaborators/the-lost-travelers-club

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