It’s strange how healing your wounds can lead to having hopes and dreams. It’s indescribable how having a child changes who you are and what you want. I’ve wanted to write this post for sometime. I’m sure I’ve written it countless times in my head. Over the past year and a half so much has changed. So much of me has changed. My mom passed away. Our daughter was born and is now walking around. Soon she’ll be talking. I lost a job, but gained freedom and desire to create something more.

All of the work I’ve done, to mold myself into the person I want to be, has given me back the ability to hope and dream. There is this calling inside of me to help others. Maybe, if I can help just one person, out of their own hell, or even stop them from getting that far, then I’ve accomplished something. But I want more. I want to help more than just one person. The dream is really to help people help people. There’s so much anguish, fear, anxiety, and loss in the world right now. The isolation of the pandemic broke the connection we had between each other. The separation bred distrust. We hid from death and the invisible sickness we couldn’t see. Collectively we could all use more connection to others. Whether it be people we know, or someone new. We know what it’s like to feel alone and helpless. Will we, can we, learn to come back together and see each other as human again instead of carriers of contagion?

This dream of helping people reconnect and heal has lit a fire inside of me. It burns like an out of control wild fire, not like the embers left in its wake. Bringing people together to talk, connect, and heal is keeping me going. The flip side of life is the responsibility brought about through having a child. My vocabulary is weak so I’ll never do it justice to try and put to words the love I feel for her and my wife. They are the other parts of life that keep me going. Now there’s a battle of responsibility and dreams. They stand on either side of an empty field, lined up, with weapons drawn. Their aim? To see who will be the victor.

Where, and how, does one find the balance to achieve both? How, without driving yourself backwards into despair, can one balance the urge to run full speed towards your dreams, while also providing the life, love, and care that a family requires. I want to be here. I want her to be loved and feel seen and connected. I will feel as though I have failed if my daughter doesn’t see me often, doesn’t trust me, or doesn’t feel that she can talk to me. Yet I also feel that I will have failed myself if I can’t help others by taking their hand and providing them the same. How do I talk to the generals on both sides of this battle and tell them to lay down their arms. Come to the table and talk. It’s time for a truce, and peace. If we can put our differences aside maybe I can have both.

I know there are people who have done it. What is the cost? Does anyone have to suffer? Is it my own fear that is stopping me? Do I think I can’t raise a child? Am I too burned out and tired to try and build a community and organization that can achieve the dreams I have? Will others believe in me enough to do both. Only time will tell. I know I won’t do anything if I can’t take the first step towards both.