Am I My Brother's Keeper?

I ask this question with all seriousness - do I have any responsibility to my family members? Or, maybe the first question is: who is "family"? 

Yesterday, I got into a "discussion" with someone I formerly thought was 'family' to me, and am not sure today if, in this person's opinion, I am family or not. So, I struggle with what this might mean for me now. 

Today, in some movie that was on TV, the following statement was made: "Family isn't whose blood you carry. It's who you love, and who loves you." Which doesn't go in my favour. If I love the person but they don't love me, then that is not my family? I'm quite sure 'love' might not have been something my here-to-fore-thought-of-as-family-member has ever felt toward me, and certainly not at this point, remembering all the words hurtled at me. I would never say things like that to someone I loved as a family member. But that is me. 

So, who is 'family'? And what, if any, responsibility to we have to/for them? There is a reason for this ... to come into play later. 

Family - the obvious first answer: blood. Genetics. Sharing the same parents. Those that carry the same "something" as you, that is passed down through generations. Ok. So far, so good. 

According to the Business Dictionary, Immediate Family refers to: Someone's spouse, parents and grandparents, children and grandchildren, brothers and sisters, mother-in-law and father-in-law, brothers- and sisters-in-law. Adopted, half and step-members are also included. Another definition:  parents and children living under the same roof. And then we have the above, genetically based and the one above that - anyone you love and who loves you in return. 

So ... does this mean, say, if you do not love your sibling, then she is not family? 

The first part might be in my favour, but still, I am no closer to anything. When you are young, yes ... when you are older, not so certain anymore. How can one come to a definitive answer if all you get are wishy-washy, feel-good, kum-bye-yah answers? If 'family' can be anyone ... and, in Cain's words, "I am not my brother's keeper", where does this leave me? This helps me none with resolving the 'discussion', and I am still out in the cold. 

So, now what? I know once, when I was a child and my mother and father were alive and I lived with them, they and my brother and I made a family. But then, we grew up. Now, my parents have passed and my brother has moved, has children of his own, and is in a relationship with another woman ... so does this mean I no longer have a family? How is it that one might be able to think that cousins are family, but not a sibling? Or does this come down to what (if any) responsibilities one has towards 'family', and not if they are? 

When I look to the Bible, much is built around family - Adam and Eve were told to go and multiply, lineage/family history is undoubtedly important. How many times does some writer list the family path line from Abraham to Jesus?  It would seem that the building block of creation is the family - mother, father, children. But what when they grow? Easy answer according to scripture: they are to go and make their own families. So, what does that mean for me? I have no family? have I failed? I have let down creation? and this is my punishment? 

Ok ... let's say I have no family. Not a great feeling. But let's go with that for a moment. Oh sure, people say they care like family, but if I were to enter a difficult time, I know I'd still be on my own. After all, I would not expect anyone to drop their responsibilities to help me. Kinda like I was told by my brother - he is not responsible for me in any way. Maybe I should also look at 'what does responsibility mean? and what does that look like in action?' And how does that play into this? (for now, let's save that for another rumination) I might not expect them to drop responsibilities, but is it true that he is not responsible for me in *any* way? 

I might not get a solid answer on 'who is family' from scripture, but I definitely get a solid one here. Somewhere online, I read: "God commands us to care for orphans and widows. When He gave the Law to Moses and the Israelites, He gave instructions for how to treat the orphans and widows among them—with harsh consequences promised if they failed in their responsibility. In the New Testament, James says that taking care of the needs of orphans and widows is part of religion "pure and faultless. Caring for those in distress is not optional for followers of Christ." Pretty clear - those who are in distress, who are without family, are to be cared for. And, I don't believe this is only for children - after all, as one gets older, they become more in need of others. And if 'family' is not to help out, who is? And, in another place, when discussing Cain's statement, 'Am I my brother's keeper?', Cain was essentially saying he was not responsible for his brother’s well-being. This shows a calloused lack of love and concern on Cain’s part. Church history does not look favourably on Cain for his selfish response. This was a result of his hatred and anger. Human history has been marked by this core attitude of a lack of concern for the care and well-being of others." Whoever wrote that ... I like what he said. Makes me also think about myself to others ... and not just others to me. 

I once was told, "If you weren't my sister, I'd want nothing to do with you." ... and another time, "If this does not work out, I will hold you 100% responsible and never want to have anything to do with you again." I don't know what I did so bad to cause me to be removed from the family, to be despised so. When I hold someone in such high esteem, to be held in such low regard ... I don't know what to say.

After thinking on this, I am going to take a stand - I believe there are a few levels to family, from immediate family, to extended family, to our global family and family in God. We are all inter-connected in some way, and in that way, we ARE our brother's keeper. We ARE to care for our fellow man, we ARE to encourage and support and help them, as we are able. And from here, yes, we ARE to care for family. We are responsible for them - in this way, we are not to abandon them or leave them on their own. Especially if they are alone. Our society might say that we are responsible only to/for ourselves, but that is not what the Kingdom of God puts forth. 

Maybe that's one reason why we are so messed up - we've lost this connection in so many ways. Stronger families, regardless of age, are stronger in most other ways. I wish this was my family. Maybe I should find others that are like me ... without family. Because we need a place as well. And, I know that my niece and nephew need to know that I am part of them. They need to know that we are family, regardless of whatever they hear. And they have a special place in my heart because we are family. Plus, in some cultures, aunties hold a very special place in the family! And, even if I hold no place in this family as an auntie, I know I am one ... and I need to honour that role, regardless of whether I am honoured in that role or not. I have no solid answer. And I now no longer have someone with which to process it. 

Unless things change, I am now an orphan.

Winter Wonderland for my Birthday

I don't ever remember having snow on my birthday, much less get caught in the storm of the century as part of a self-created adventure. This was not to be part of it, but I am glad that it was.

As the years have gone on, I've had more and more difficulty accepting my age and all that comes with it. I am determined to turn things around, but have been dragging my butt - I know what needs to be done, I make the plans, and then watch the time go by. I could point fingers as a multitude of reasons why, but the fact is - here I sit, and nothing of outward significance has changed.

Somewhere along the way, I began a Birthday Ritual - it began randomly, as most rituals do. I hit a birthday and my plans fell through. It was a significant year, and something went south and I found myself looking forward to a milestone alone. Not very exciting. So, instead of waiting for something to fall from the sky and provide alternative plans, I took the bull by the horn and made my own. I booked time off work and 'ran away' - it ended up that I visited friends, but what I remember best was the solitude alone, the discovery of vistas that I had forgotten existed just outside my front door.

Last year, I did it again .. and this year, it is now my personal yearly ritual. Thank you to the creation and discovery of Airbnb, I can find a little place within my price-range to isolate myself, reconnect with dreams and vision, and contemplate 'what now?' ... and what better time than to do it on my birthday?

I've been struggling with a few things, mostly in me, and not knowing what to do or where to go with these thoughts and feelings. It was great to take some time and see what I could do about putting them into words. In this case, they formed a part of two letters, so we'll pull that and keep it. In the middle of one of them, I realized that I could take this to a counsellor, I didn't need to work through this alone ... so when I get back, that's what I will do. I get the feeling that there is a discovery here to be made - about myself and potentially my future.

I also wanted to do some writing ... and, in a round-about way, I did. Now, to start pulling bits together so I don't lose them as I start making progress forward on this idea. I can do a self-created writers retreat anytime, but this was a good time to start.

Which leads me to yesterday - my 55th birthday. I woke to the beginnings of a snowfall that had the signs of being one of those picture-perfect experiences - soft, big flakes, falling straight down, building up to create a white, fluffy blanket covering everything. I was at a ski resort, high in the Canadian Rockies, so I didn't think too much of it ... but thought it best I get going sooner rather than later. I know roads can quickly get treacherous, and I didn't have my winter tires on yet.  Well, to make a long story short, Snowfall Warnings followed me all the way to Canmore and between Banff and Canmore, I realized that I could not continue to travel. For most of the day, travel was fine - beautiful, white, fluffy and fine. But somewhere it changed ... still white, still fluffy, and thankfully not a breath of wind ... but the road conditions were no longer safe. I pulled in to Canmore to clear my windshield (for the 3rd time), and discovered I had no traction. And I was still a good 100 km from home.

Because it was my birthday, I had received a bunch of birthday wishes sent to me via FaceBook and had kind of sent occasional comments on what I was going through. There is no doubt that people were praying for me ... because I had no idea what I missed and how 'lucky' I was to get one of the last rooms in the town. On the highway, just past Canmore ... people were either in an accident or waiting in a traffic jam for upwards of 10 hours. TEN HOURS. I had no idea. A warming place was set up in the Canmore High School, gave a place to about 500 people, and I had no idea. I got my room and at least 100 people came and asked after me, and I had no idea. I opened the curtains to my hotel room this morning ...

My birthday present this year ... a winter wonderland of blessings beyond words.
My personal gift from God.

Are Ethics Passé?

Ethics - moral principles that govern a person's behaviour or the conducting of an activity. 

Morals - concerned with the principles of right and wrong behaviour and the goodness or badness of human character. 

Right or wrong, behaviour and activity. Action. Good and bad. Easy to define these words, but when you bring this lens up to a person's life, what do you see? Do we even know what it is? or do we conclude that because I say it and I believe it, this makes it so? Is it relative or is there something more to it? Is it grounded in something external to humanity? Or am I free to define it as I see fit? 
 

I had a bit of a discussion with a colleague today - people have a career, a job. And you'd expect them to live the truth of that. Live the moral correctness expected from that ... and yet so often, that's not what happens. How often, when I taught, did I see some form of 'cheating' where people turned away? or a bully and all an authority witness does is waggle the finger at Jonny and say, "You know better; don't do that again" and Jonny laughs inside at this stupid teacher. Or the social worker who came to visit my brother with a preset belief that he was the 'bad guy' and the children had to be rescued from this monster? Or the lawyer who defends the perpetrator and twists it to be not about how he abused the girl but about how he is the victim because he's black and everyone attacks black men? I could look around and without throwing a stone too far hit something again where we shake our heads.  

Somewhere in the recent past, something shifted. I don't want to blame it on the demise of belief but I can't think of where else it might have come from. As I ponder this, and things I have recently come across, it might actually be a sign of our times. A trait of our age. The Age of Postmodernism. This is defined as a period in time, in the late 20th century that has at its heart a general distrust of grand theories and ideologies as well as a problematic relationship with any notion of 'art'. It's about a deconstructionist view and the removal of labels, of hierarchy. Almost of anything that gave form to previous eras. 

I think what this might have done is white-wash everything to a grey of mediocrity. It is no longer acceptable to point out differences or to use labels to separate. We are in such a world of social equality (that is only for 'my' group), where each has their own 'truth' so long as yours does not impose upon mine and don't you dare offend me! But I can offend and attack and belittle you all I want. 

And that's where the absence of ethics comes in ... I think ethics have become what we want them to be. I am 'right' and therefore what I deem as right is right. We are all 'right' in our way, provided there is no contradiction to me. We have become so sensitive to what is around us that it seems we have reduced ourselves to all be the same because no one stands out or stands up anymore. And that means, we no longer have heroes - because heroes are those who point us to a higher way of being ... and because we are now 'post-modern', there is no longer a 'higher way of being' because everyone is equal. A strange type of socialism! 

I've heard talk of 'tribalism' - we are all fracturing into our own little groups - the 'Me, too" movement and supporters, the "Black Lives Matter", the Indigenous people, into various gender groups ... what's the term now - gender identity vs gender expression, and there are a plethora of terms under there to match yourself with ... but don't get too close to that label because everything is fluid. and I'm sure there are countless other terms for groups out there - racial, sexual, beliefs, etc. I truly think that the more we pull apart and create these distinctions in a world that claims to have none, the more we are messing up who we are and who we were created to be. I'm not saying I am against any of these groups; I'm saying that when the group becomes the defining thing, then I believe we are headed to places we don't want to go.

I mean, if I am asked 'who are you?', I don't think I'd ever start by listing the labels under which you'd find me. Does that mean I'm postmodern? Or does it mean that I aspire to be more than what a label can give to understanding who I am? Because in a way, I do believe in pushing ourselves out of the norm, away from the masses, while at the same time remaining connected and compassionate to all. Why can we not all aspire to become more than we are? Why do we have to be comfortable in our complacency and meet the status quo? 

There's something also about regulating the external to bring all to a point of equality, and in that regulation, we end up forcing all to become complicit to a form of dictatorship where what we say and what we do have 'bookends' and all is controlled. It's sounding more and more like we are living in a world that is beginning to resemble what once was only found in science fiction dystopian novels. 

I heard a speaker recently - he said that 'to think is to risk being offended." He might have something there. And then ... watch out. Because I think ethics are passé, especially if 'your' ethics are different or contradict 'mine'. Then what happens?

Food and Time

Over the last weekend of May 2018, I had an opportunity that I could not pass up.

I have often contemplated fasting, particularly over the Easter weekend. I know that Scripture says "... when you fast", not "... if you fast". I know that throughout various religions and cultures, over time and place, fasting is something valuable to the belief and people. So, when I had the opportunity to participate in one, I decided to give it a go.

The premise that I signed up for: I would join the people already fasting on Thursday evening. My last meal would be Thursday dinner, and I would officially start Friday morning with the sweat lodge. After a bit to eat, I would return to my teepee and remain between it and the washrooms until I was summoned on Sunday morning for the sweat lodge again, to bring it to a close. I had no idea how many would be there. I do know that I needed to have some water and (I chose) V8 juice for my medication daily, so the expectation of no food or water was not 100% followed. And I (and the Elder) was ok with that.

I did some prep, some reading and contemplation, but I should have done more. At the end, I will reflect a bit on what I will do differently next time.

People have asked if I had any exceptional experience - out of body, profound ah-ha, existential in some way. In honesty, I don't know. I will say that with the removal of food/consumption and time, you see things in a bit of a different way. The amount of time we put into food, preparing it, eating it, buying it, deciding on it, is crazy. The amount of food we consume is just as crazy. When I finished, there was a craving for nutrient-dense food ... at least, in my mind, that's what I wanted. "Fake food" ... they talk about 'fake news', but there is also 'fake food' - empty calories that do nothing to keep the body healthy. And, upon completion, I found this week that the thought of fake food made me sick for I craved real food with high nutrients, and not near as much as I had consumed before. I don't think there's any consequences on myself ... yet. And, as time distances, I need to maintain focus to continue that desire and not slip back into old habits.

Time. I remember sitting on my chair, in the warm sunshine (and we did have perfect weather all weekend for this!), contemplating God in the world. And my mind wandered to the concept of time. Construct or concept? Maybe a little of both. I watched the shadow of the tree branches, made by the warm sun, as it slowly moved across the forest floor. How many times had it followed that path? how many times had those branches imprinted that spot? once a day ... since the sun shone on the branches for the first time. And today, here I sat - watching time move, for the first time. Was this like watching the hand on a clock move? No - the hand is identical, but this isn't. If one thinks minutely, even there - between yesterday and today, when that path was last taken, the tree has slightly changed - grown a titch more, leaves have changed, and the sun's angle is not quite what it was either. So, even though it might seem 'the same' since sun first shone on that spot, daily, into the future, there is slight change every day so that no two days are the same. And, a thing about this time, is I was there - I could not only watch the branches, but I could just be. Be in the moment. Be present to watch the sun move in its forever-arc across the sky. Feel the sun change the warmth - from cool, to warm, to hot, to warm, to cool again.

I remember the trees, the rustle of leaves, the 'ruach'. I sat and 'drank' the world around me. I sat and was present to my being. I 'was where my feet are' - and that's not easy! I listened to the trees ... they spoke to me of time, of being, of breath of life. Of what is really valuable and true and real. For the first time in forever, I just was. 

I didn't get hungry until Saturday morning. I didn't think much about food before then, either. My time was taken up with resting, with some reading and journaling and much reflecting. Filling time has never been a problem for me, but what I did have to be careful of is sleeping away the experience. I wanted to face into this time, and not let it slip through my fingers. I wanted to embrace whatever was to come and come out the other side changed in some way.

So, Saturday morning, I felt the pangs of hunger. It would have been easy to crawl back into bed and sleep it away. But, instead, I found, again, a warm spot of sunshine on the ground, placed my chair unobstructed by branches and faced into the heat rays. I sat there, feeling it wash over me. Eyes closed. So warm. I thought of my senses - would it be possible to feel Creator on all senses? I felt the slight breath of a breeze dust across my face. Like the "ruach" of Spirit. I inhaled and there was the smell of the green growing around, the smell of earth, the faint sweetness of nearby blooms. I heard the chirp and sound of birds everywhere, near and far - more than 30 different calls, I thought I counted. And taste?

As my face remained in the heat, my eyes closed, I thought of how often God is connected to food in Scripture - bread of Life; I am the tree, you are the branches; fruits of the Spirit; some need milk, some require meat; it starts in the Garden and ends in one, and after resurrection, Jesus was mistaken for a Gardener; the pruning of the tree, manna that fed them in the desert, water to wine at the wedding in Cana, Jesus is the bread of life, and in His sermon on the Mount – “Blessed are those that hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” And I'm sure there's much more than I've thought of here. I remember once hearing Len Sweet speak, and he spoke on something like this, how that’s what Scripture is – nourishment of the soul and for the soul. He writes in his book Tablet to Table: "The story of God is full of references to food. From the Garden of Eden to the Last Supper to the wedding feast of the Lamb, God sets a table before us and invites us to join Him there."  In that moment, I breathed a prayer - to be fed with this food, the only food to feed my Spirit, to nourish me as nothing else can. And, within minutes ... the hunger went away, and did not return. At all for the duration of my time there. I knew, in that instant, that I was in the presence of God - right there, right now. The 'taste' of God - hunger satiated.

(Quote from Sweet; "First commandment and final commandment to humans in the Bible? 'Eat freely', Gen 2:16, and 'Drink freely', Rev 22:17. Everything in between these two commands is a table, and on that table and on that table is served a life-course meal, where we feast in our hearts with thanksgiving on the very Bread of Life and the Cup of salvation: Jesus the Christ.") 

A quick comment on Creator/God. There is no doubt in my mind that the Creator my Indigenous friends refer to, in this environment, is the same entity as my God. I believe it's a matter of personal name choice. And this, in my opinion, goes far beyond anything that a 'religion' can define and limit. This entire weekend, it was my desire to connect in some way, to the God that has been throughout time and history, the One that was there when it all began, the One that spoke to Abraham, was present with believers in the Roman Colosseum, was part of the lives of the Dessert Fathers and Mothers, the Creator cultures acknowledge, the One that exists within and outside of organized religions and personal beliefs ... like the fish and water. I wanted to connect with God outside my limited definition to expand my understanding. Sacred ground is where God is ... not where we say God is. My life has been a walk, a partnership with God; I do not remember a time when God was not with me. And here, I wanted something new, something connected and more. And no doubt in my mind - I was on sacred ground. To connect to God bigger than I can imagine yet intimate and personal as I believe ... mind blowing. And this was my encounter that weekend.

Evenings, Madison and I talked quietly, about our experiences, about our thoughts throughout the day. She shared a story about a fish, who asked his brother fish what was water. "It's all around us," his brother said. It made me think of how we often wonder or question things that are 'all around us'. We talked about this entity - God / Creator - how something bigger than us is so obvious to some, and to others, it does not exist; when something is obvious to some and non-existent to others, then who's perception is right? I think that no matter how much we think we know, we don't. I think there is much more 'around' us that we have no idea is there. We sometimes just can't see. But we have other senses ... and maybe senses that are not yet developed. So glad I spent this time with her on my first fast! She is an amazing young woman. Next time, I'll be ready to be in complete isolation.

One thing I did not talk about is the Sweat Lodge. The fast starts with one and ends with one, and this time, I could not complete them. I'm not sure why - excess heat? The first one, I got through the first round, and felt like my skin was burning off. And did not return for any of the others. The last sweat lodge, I got through almost 3 rounds, but had to ask to be let out during the Healing Round. In part, the heat ... but more so, an approaching panic attack and the growing inability to breath got me to cry out for release. I don't know why ... maybe there's something there needing to be discovered.

I said I'd finish this with thoughts on the next time. Yes, I'd do it again. But next time, I would do the following:
(1) I would take the occasional day in the weeks before to go without food.
(2) I would take myself off all forms of caffeine for at least 4 days before - those headaches can be brutal!
(3) I would take some time before to become very clear on why I am fasting. I would be sacrificing food for what purpose? Then, during 'meal time', it's that which I meditate on.
(4) I would generate questions on which to reflect upon during 'meal time', to become part that meditation time.
(5) I would take my Bible again - and bring specific verses to use for meditation. And books that are aligned with the reason I'm out there. And definitely bring my journal again. Excellent book to use: New Seeds of Contemplation by Thomas Merton.
(6) The feather blanket my mom made for me would also come ... this is one item I was definitely grateful for as the nights dipped into the single digits. The fire in the tent kept us warm for only so long!
(7) And, I would bring matches. Definitely matches!  I can do almost anything, but I can't start a fire without a match!

Stay Hungry

I have known people who live behind excuses - there is always a reason why they can't do something. A former college friend of mine is in constant mourning over the life she never had and how everything would be right if only she had what everyone else has. Another friend, with a university degree but no work experience, is angry that she cannot get a job, even though she has no intention of changing anything to get one. There are people in this world that want something but there's always a reason why they cannot achieve it. Always pointing fingers at someone or something that, and so easy to give up before you've begun. Blaming someone or something else for their woeful life. 

There have been times in my life when those excuses were mine. Times when I felt paralyzed because things seem so insurmountable, the deck is stacked against me. Giving up would be so easy. I don't mean suicide - there are ways to give up that don't include ending it all. Staying in bed, becoming a recluse. 

But in the end, what would that prove? When you have parents, when you do not have to care for yourself and be fully responsible for yourself, it's easy to give up. When there's no safety net, then things get a little different. 

I came across an expression that resonated with me - Stay Hungry. It means: "to remain determined, competitive, motivated, and active on one's hopes, ambitions, or goals; to keep oneself from becoming complacent or self-satisfied with less than one might potentially achieve." And I'll fully admit I have gone through a lot of life with either no "hunger" or very little "hunger". It's not that things were given to me (far from it!) but that "hunger" was never fostered or developed. And, for some reason, it seems that my life has gone from catastrophe to catastrophe so mere survival became my focus. There was no room for "hunger" if just taking the next step was enough to consume me. And, any time when I might have been provided an opportunity to develop that hunger, I often gave up. 

No, that's not completely true. I remember a particular year in university when I was taking more than the recommended course load. The recommended average was 4 full-time courses. I was taking 2 full-time and 6 part-time. In one semester. I remember coming close to panicking. I remember sitting in my advisor's office in tears, not sure how I would make it through. 

I was a poor Canadian student from rural Manitoba attending a rather elite private American college. I'm not sure what my father thought, but I know my mother was not pleased at all. She frequently told me that I did not deserve this, I was not qualified to be there. I'm not sure what she wanted for me, but getting an education was not one of those things. In my mother's mind, girls do not go to university, much less a private American one! Who did I think I was?? (Those words still ring in my ears today, decades after her passing.) In retrospect, my mother's family had 8 children (she was the youngest) and about 24 grandchildren. I was the youngest granddaughter (of 9) and the first granddaughter to get a university degree. To say I was breaking the mold was an understatement. Females just didn't get university degrees. On my father's side, of 4 children, he was the oldest, and 7 grandchildren. I was the oldest granddaughter (of 5) and the first (and only) one to get a university degree. For the four years I attended college, paying money I know my parents did not have, working for my father's construction company every summer and working on campus, and receiving the maximum governmental assistance I could get, I never felt that I deserved the opportunity. I worked hard - paying those fees at a time when I know I could receive very little assistance from my parents, I often felt that this was meant for others but not for me. I worked hard, I studied hard. I sacrificed many social opportunities because I had to make every penny count. Even if no one knew about this but me. Every phone call I received from my mother was full of accusatory and disparaging comments about my unworth for this. Thankfully, when the tuition was paid, I had to continue my studies. That would be wasteful, and that's one thing we didn't do - waste money! (Even though, this was definitely seen as a form of that.) And, it was a semester-by-semester struggle. To this day, I don't know how I did it - completed my degree. I took my major based on what I thought my mother would approve of ... but in retrospect, there is nothing that she would have approved of. I think it was because I had the opportunity to go to higher education and she did not. That, plus other problems she had, cast a dark shadow over not only my university years and learning but long into my adult years, too. 

Why be hungry when you don't deserve any of it anyway? I was hungry when I was at university. I worked hard. I was determined to get the best grades I could. I know, without a doubt, that I could not have got better grades than I did. I was motivated to do my best. But I wasn't competitive, and I had no idea what my goals were. Maybe that's one reason my life took the path it did. When you don't know where you're going, when you doubt you should even be there to begin with and you don't deserve it, then there's no path to take and you'll never 'arrive'. 

It's decades later now. May of this year, I will have graduated 33 years ago. Both my parents have passed and, for all purposes, I'm alone and on the path to be an elder orphan. And I look back over my life and I can't help but get angry. Angry that I was cheated out of a life that so many others have. Angry that I never came into my own. Angry that I feel that I've lost at this game called life. And then ... I realize that I am sounding like my friends. What's more, I'm not dead yet. And though my life has been almost random, the path more circuitous than most, definitely not climbing up any ladder rungs! you know what? maybe I'm starting to feel a bit of that hunger. As I often say to myself, I'm not dead yet. And if I'm not dead (believe me, there have been a few points along the way where it would have been easy enough to take me out!), then there must be something I have not yet finished. Some goal I have not yet achieved. I need to stop being complacent and get going. 

So, I will develop a hunger: 

I will be hungry - for knowledge, for growth, for passion, for purpose. 

I will be hungry - for people who have walked my path already and turned their life around. 

I will be hungry - for giving, for contributing, for acting on my education and my experience in the world. 

I will be hungry - for that which I have not yet done and I have yet to do. 

I will do this for myself and for others, for who I am and created to be ... and not for who I was told that I was. It's time to put my mother to rest. It's time to make my mark on this moment in time. 

My path was not for nothing. 

I am not for nothing. 

Who do I think I am? I'm still becoming ... and I am full potential. 

I'm not dead yet!