I knew I had to come up with a better summation of why I turned out the way I did.  I set out on dream-like recollections of the past.  I thought deeply about the psychologies and philosophies that I was guided by.  Why did I always insert myself into dangerous situations?   Did I maybe have a genetic disposition to enjoy fear, like a cop or a fireman?  I could understand how such a gene might persist since time immemorial – where a clan or society could survive based on a mix between those who stride forward and those who are prepared to run.

Or maybe it was just a learned determination to stand up for what I thought was right.  Maybe it was the influence of religion and a feeling that one must sacrifice like a modern day Jesus.  Maybe it was a striving for acceptance or self-worth.  Maybe it was an unwillingness to ask anyone else to try as hard as I did.  Maybe it was the tenor of the times or an addiction to excitement.  Maybe in the back of my mind I realized that I had social and mental capital that I could eventually fall back on.  Maybe I’ve always had a chip on my shoulder because I only stand five foot six.  Maybe it was all of the above.  Who knows the proportions?

What unites the periods before and after my descent into a drugs and depression is an orientation that I have always had.  In the 60s and 70s, I was always on the go, always showing up at places where people were in motion.  Too often I tried to do more that I should have.  Now, health permitting, I’m still showing up.  But now I have a more realistic understanding of my role.  I try to clarify the issue and be available to help but not necessarily lead.  It has always been about talking to the natural leaders and encouraging the whole group to stand together.  I call the natural leaders “the leaven in the loaf”.

I have had so many good bouts of story-telling these last several weeks.  Suggestions from old friends lead me to explore hidden caverns of memory.  It is a comfort to have been able to tell my life story and to frame it in the context of redemption.  Stripped of other worldly illusions, it means a second chance — a determined effort to sacrifice and work extra hard to realize a human potential.  It is a striving for a feeling of accomplishment.