I had convinced myself that circumstances and feelings are separate. Looking back on the good fortunes in my past, I can still remember how troubled I had felt over what now seems insignificant. The days of the past were surrendered to the future in the faith that the effort would insulate our family from doom. Nothing can assure that protection. In 2001 my life was visited by events of biblical proportion, sweeping out my security like the coming of locus. I had never experienced such lose before. But rather then causing despair, it opened my eyes to living. The wonders of being in the present and working with out worry were enthralling. The focus was still on achievement and contributions, but life’s pleasures were now expanded to include the senses of my body. Like the accomplishment of a well cooked meal or the beauty of a run on an autumn day I could feel the payoff.

I now had an understanding and will fear death less because I finally lived. This thought has a nagging question; would my life be more secure if I was still troubled? The evidence around me does not support that point of view. I still see people squandering their precious moments with anger and depression when hardships inevitable befall them. I might be squealing like a pig and cursing out everyone I have ever known when true disaster strikes me, but please give me these minutes to rejoice in my life while I can.