Updated December 29, 2009
 www.lovecounts.net

I have this whimsical theory that, having been given the gift of corralling ideas into words, putting pen to paper creates a little earthly magic. It opens the line of communication between our spirit and self. And, while we think constantly, the thoughts, however honest, deep and profound they may be, somehow get lost in the nether regions of the next thing to do, worry-to-worry, sentence to speak. Written, the same thoughts become our own, forever concrete.  Revised, perhaps changed, or just simply remembered, they are an essential, stated part of us at a given moment in time. How is it that we can let go, even for a time, something so essential to our well-being?

How incredibly blessed we are! There can be no substitute for the safety net of the people - family and friends - who love and care for us. How much more lonely and afraid we would be sailing with our singular ideals and individuality if it were not for that net.

They may not understand or even think understanding is needed, but they love us and that love makes us strong enough to carry on with our dreams and goals and ideals - to give where and when we can.

Growth of any kind starts with the seed, then the root, then the vine and the flowering - only to start the cycle again. Nature understands this.  Impatient beings that we are, we lose sight of this universal law. Precept to precept, grace to grace, we grow, and then grow again.  Everything in its own time. We are first given the gift of knowing enough to ask the questions, and then we embark on a quest of finding the answers, one by painful/joyful one. With each answer we grow in maturity and wisdom.  With maturity we obtain the gift of perspective, and with perspective the sharp edges of day-to-day living become softer and less able to hurt. It is often a fine line between following a path of continued learning, understanding and (hopefully) improvement and self-abuse. When we cross the line to the negative side it is self-abuse and destructive. The positive side of the line is self-honesty. We are, each of us on this earth, individuals. God and we alone know what goes on in the inner recesses of our soul, respective of what we present to the world.

I am reminded of Mother Theresa doing "good" throughout the world without apparent ego. And yet, for her to have been effective, she must have recognized her authority and accepted her chosen place as being unique to the majority.  On mostly a lesser level, each of us must recognize our place in the world and accept the inherent responsibilities of that place. The majority of people live on a day-to-day basis from birth to death without serious question or thought. They accept their place and responsibility, usually without question, the same as Sister Theresa accepted hers. To those who walk to a different drumbeat, it is sometimes hard to accept the responsibility that comes with the "place". To those given much, much shall be asked.

For whatever cosmic reason or circumstance, I have been given the ability to know enough to ask the questions, and, having asked the questions, sought the answers. I am not, by any means, unique in such a quest, but it does seem I am one of a minority. So, it sets us apart - not better, not above - just apart.

There most certainly can be ego, and God knows I've fought that battle often enough, but what it should be is recognition and acceptance of the responsibility. Words without substance are just words after all.  Throughout the years, I have come to recognize my difference and accept it.  I have yet to fully accept the responsibility. I have to back up just a bit here. In the large picture I do not feel I have lived up to the responsibilities of the knowledge given. However, from a sincere desire to give, I have been privileged to be in time and circumstances where my experience and knowledge have been of value to another person. It is a given that the measuring stick for ourselves is far more finite than for others. Against my own measuring stick, I would say I've destroyed no one emotionally, hurt relatively few, and helped, in a small way, many.