I thought maybe my purpose was to create art. This is something important that I do. It grounds me. It gives me a way to express the things that I feel, and in so doing, it tells me what I feel…. But if my purpose is to comment on my experience, and thus know it, what’s the point? That’s just figuring out the facts. The logistics. Once I begin to understand me, I can reach out. Reach outside of my comfort zone, and actually affect change in the world.

I vote. Voting is important, but I have a very very small voice. And so I reach out, within my arms length, and do something that will make an impact.

I have been very fortunate. I was so secure growing up that I could be ungrateful. I could be dismissive and rude, and yet I knew my parents loved me. I felt safe. Not all kids have that. Some kids are rejected by their parents. Some kids are taken away because their parents are doing such a poor job at parenting. Kids are abandoned due to no fault of their own.

Why am I so fortunate when so many are not?

I made certain decisions that brought me to where I am today. I live in a town that many people with more resources than I have wish they could live in. I own a home that I love. I have extra bedrooms, and a four car garage. I have two bonfire pits in a yard where, for almost 30 years, I have cultivated my own private forest. I’ve created the home and life I have longed for.

I think my purpose… the reason I was put on this earth, is to give kids who weren’t as fortunate as me, a home with love. I’m a single parent, but I told my kids that I can love them twice as much. As much as a mom and a dad.

I’m not looking forward to a future free of kids.

Most people don’t want to adopt older kids. Multiple kids. Kids with special needs. I’m not like most people.