I have decided that today is so much more than just a Monday. Today is yesterday’s tomorrow; one more day offering another chance to make a difference for someone, anyone. I have no reason to label this day as anything in particular. It simply IS. Whether it is a Monday or a Sunday, it is still a day- one that can be an instrument of inspiration and change.These opportunities are plentiful enough!

A young adult can impact upon more souls than a person in their nineties, who has lived an ordinary, unremarkable existence. How many days and how many chances do we need to leave this world better than we found it? Do we aim for as many as possible, or “just enough?”

I write this post facing a window with an amazing view. Finding freedom from baring branches, leaves lazily swing and sway with abandon, haphazardly landing on the faded fields below. This autumnal kaleidoscope is the gift that fills me with joy. Today needs no name; other than that brilliant view of all that is fall. Clearly, summer now slumbers and soon it will be time to rake mounds of leaves. Lord knows there are more than enough...

Yesterday I boarded a plane from Boston to Washington, where I am visiting with our son and his wife. Our daughter-in-law just gave birth to their first child~our first grandchild. We look at this innocent infant and want only good things for him; perfect health, a kind soul and many chances over a long lifetime to make our earth an even better place. For now, he mostly sleeps, feeds every few hours, and goes through diapers like crazy. We try to hold him as much as possible, but how much is too much? Conversely, how can we know if we are loving on this beautiful baby enough?

Sometimes I think about how hopefully all babies were held and loved as infants. How exactly do people who've been given the same kind of love as children end up with such diverse destinies as adults? While some pursue a profession or situation where they significantly contribute to society, some are unable to do so because they are incarcerated, homeless, or completely lost in oblivion and exist only marginally? Surely they could use a hand if they desired to better their conditions, but often when we give, they take, and the very next day they are still there, outstretched arms holding cardboard signs citing their critical circumstances. Giving is a blessing, but how much is too much or conversely, not enough?

Homeless people are not the only ones who hunger. We all do. In one way or another we seek what we feel will fulfill us, what we deem we cannot do without. Some hunger for intellectual stimulation by reading or writing or buying books. Others hunger for substances to soothe their vapid, vacant, spiritless souls. Others have an insatiable craving to secure “things” they think will add to their fulfillment and happiness. But how much? Exactly how many books, beers, cigarettes, clothing, cash and even cars, are enough?

For me, there was never enough, because I was never enough. I almost wasn’t here to write this post. I and many others were (and some continue to be) abused so horribly that it seems there will never be enough of anything to fill their void. Whether weightless words or a heavy hand, with every single insult the perfect petals that were once blossoms fall away, one by one. Soon we are left a solitary, stripped stem. What was meant to be a beautiful flower is now a useless, purposeless thorned trophy our abusers collect to fill their empty shelves and their empty souls.

Until now.

When have we had ENOUGH? It is said that we are once a victim, twice a volunteer. Haven’t we been the victim many more times than once? No one will think to applaud us, but I guarantee we have volunteered for far too long.

Who were we and who what will we become? We are the babies who were cuddled and cherished until someone decided otherwise. They chose to abuse us before we ever knew we matter and we have worth. We never even knew how beautiful we really are. We are built completely and purposefully. We are the stunning leaves that adorn then eventually fall from the trees, and also we are the steady, strong trunk and bare branches beneath. We can weather and become be the winds of change because we were not meant to be battered. We were born with a purpose. Isn’t that reason enough to claim the future that is ours?

There will never be a more opportune time. We no longer need to play the downtrodden dog who dutifully appeases his abuser daily. We played that role brilliantly! That Emmy is ALL OURS! Now it’s our turn to take a stand and proudly bow. No more believing we belong backstage. Make that last curtain call and allow yourself a heaping helping of happiness. Don’t stop until you have more than enough.

And now the time seems right to close this post. I believe I’ve said enough.