"Civilization is the limitless multiplication of unnecessary necessities." Mark Twain

The mornings are brisk when I wake up, and I am realizing that the socks I wear to bed aren't nearly thick enough to keep away the cold. My sleeping bag is a mess as well, and I'll need a new one. My breath is visible when I climb outside of the confines of my sleeping bag; I stretch, put on my shoes, and make my way to the box while all is still quiet. I am pondering the entire way back to campsite whether life was something like this before we began to screw it all up, if the middle of August always used to require a jacket for chilly mornings and cool nights.

I am gaining my night vision back again by learning to follow by starlight and becoming less afraid of the things that go bump in the night. Listening to Pop tell stories makes me braver. Such as the tale of the "Ghost of the Forest"or learning that Blue Herons are anti-social. I am certain that my skin smells of toxic waste to all the beings of the forest, and they steer clear of the poisonous affect my kind has imposed upon the world. I am new to this job, and my boys take advantage of that fact. They attempt to play me, but in the night I become their leader and they again become like six-year-olds frightened of shadows.

The small town in which we reside while not being positive role models is part of a large cluster of small towns. The boys think we have houses all over in Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, and as far away as Kentucky, which is for the best. The thought of one embittered and determined 12-17 year old boy with poor self-control knowing exactly where to go to "get Chief back" will explain why. It is perfect as small towns go. One can find every necessity within walking distance, though for some luxuries, like movie theaters, you must travel farther. None of us has a key to the house, and, though full of "goodies", I have yet to hear a story of robbery. The librarian takes "I.O.U.s", the beach is a 15 minute bike ride away, and there are BYOB restaurants all over the place. If I could barter for the things that I need, life would be even easier.

I don't own a car, but for the time being things here are idyllic. In a few months time, I will be truly fulfilling my wanderlust for the first time in my life through a trip to Spain (then Germany, then wherever Nathan happens to be), and it is only possible through what I am doing now. I am a dream seeker, and I am reminded of a few years back when I began to worry myself to death over the fate of my life and whether I was living it right. I began to follow passion with reckless abandon hoping against hope that it would lead me to great things. Pleasant surprises have become my life, and I will continue to mold myself with passion.

The past year has helped me to reconnect with my family and embrace my responsibility to be a positive role model for my nieces and nephews. I am paving the way and building bridges so that the road they travel isn't quite so difficult. Recent research has found that many youth, especially minority youth, are growing up to be less secure than previous generations. Not on my watch. I will plant a seed in the children whose lives I touch with the instructions on how to build a brighter future for themselves and the world, and it all begins with passion. With passion, everything is possible. This is my lesson, but it doesn't stop there. There will be trials but also great rewards. God rewards our passion with fulfilled lives. I cannot bring hope to every child, but to those that I can, I will not stop. And whether there is a heaven or hell for me, dissolution into everything or nothing at all, there won't be a part of me that wasn't sacrificed to my own greater good.

For the first time in a long time, I am realizing the terms of my own salvation.