“My God, this is terrible”, the wave says. “Look what’s going to

happen to me!” Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave, looking so grim, and it says to him, “Why do you look so sad?”

            The first wave says, “You don’t understand! We’re all going to crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn’t it terrible?”

            The second wave says, “You don’t understand. You’re not a wave; you’re part of the ocean!”

            This little story has always reflected two of the most important lessons one must not ignore in his lifetime.

            Firstly, we are here on earth living not only for ourselves but for others… I have, for as long as I can remember, lived and done things for my family, for my friends. And they are the ones who give meaning to my life up to this very day.

            I share everything I could and have, from food to assignments, from my time to just any kind of things from any kind of people… Though I am not wealthy, I don’t have every material things which I could tangibly share to anyone who asks, I take more pleasure for the simple things I can give and can do for the people who are important to me and strangers alike without asking for anything in return or expecting any recognition for it. It makes me so much happier knowing and seeing the people I love happy.

            There were many selfish things I have done, thinking those were the things that made me happy. I know I can not undo the things I have already committed, but to make up for such acts, I see to it that I give more. Not out of guilt but something that comes from the heart. And it makes me feel satisfied.

Secondly, it reminds me that I would eventually die. As everything that gets born, dies. I’m young and most people would say to me to live life to the fullest and worry about my problems tomorrow. I tried but I just don’t have the pleasure to have the happy-go-lucky personality.

But what if you will not make the most of what you have today and tomorrow you die? Of course there are regrets but is it really how one should live her life? I think we are often in denial that we are going to die. As a result, we try to work our butts off for a higher salary, bigger house, more expensive cars. But do these things really make us happy?

I’m young and I should be full of dreams of having a beautiful future, which culture equates to having so much money and material things. Well, I would be a hypocrite saying I don’t dream all the luxuries the world could offer. Obviously, our culture makes us do the things that everyone else’s doing. So we tend to walk around with a meaningless life. We seem half-asleep even when we are busy doing things we think are important or the things we automatically think we have to do, as a result, we don’t experience the world fully. This is because we are chasing the wrong things.

We’re so wrapped up with egotistical things, career, relationships, having lots of money. We’re involved in trillions of little acts just to keep going. So we don’t get into the habit of standing back and looking at our lives saying, “Is this all? Is this all I want? Is something missing?

The way to get meaning into your life therefore, is to devote oneself to loving others and offering others what you can give.

So here’s what I am trying to do… I’m creating my own subculture wherein, I can do the little things I know would help me and others grow to be more human. Having my own subculture doesn’t mean I could just ignore norms and rules of the land. No. But there are big things culture can not dictate us. That is, tell us how we should think and tell us the things that we should value.

Keeping this in mind, we should be able to enjoy the kind of freedom in which everyone’s benefited. How? By doing the things which are meaningful to me, that is, sharing and loving others. “When you learn, teach. When you get, give.”

As Auden said, “Love one another, or die.” For me, love is the root of all the good things in the world.

And this is how I want to be remembered when the times comes for my earthly body to decay. Answering now the questions ‘Who am I?’ and ‘Why am I here?’… I am a loving daughter, sister, and friend. And I live for others as I need others to exist.                                                  —fgbc 

As a child, I just wanted to be loved. It wasn’t until I grew up that learned how - By Marilyn Joan

Growing up the fifth of six children was a challenge, the struggle for placement and acceptance being the usual issues. Personally, I never felt I needed to be heard or seen. Taught to be seen and not heard from the time we were born, when we broke that rule we were punished severely.

I had several strikes against me growing up. I had very little self-esteem, if any. Our mother had a hair-trigger temper and we constantly had to avoid her wrath, learning to fear and not thrive as children. Even when we weren’t in trouble, we felt like we had done something wrong. Talking about love or sex in our house was totally taboo. Our home lacked warmth and my fears of incurring my mother’s anger outweighed my desire to talk to her about very important things that should have been dealt with as a child, not as an adult.

My childhood was short. I always say I graduated from the school of hard knocks, and meant it. I was molested between the ages of ten and thirteen by four different family friends and a family member. I was an alcoholic by the time I was fourteen and a frequent user of drugs when I wasn’t drunk.

I was not popular in school, my grades were not great and the only thing I excelled at was spelling, which would not carry me far. My mom planted the seeds and watered them daily, telling me I wasn’t smart enough or good enough to reach the goals I set for myself in life. I wanted to be a teacher, a stewardess or a nurse. At one time, I had many, many dreams. Not one of them was something my mother encouraged or thought I could accomplish.

I made mistakes, too many to mention and some so humiliating that I cringe inside today as I recall them. The drugs, the alcohol and the self-destructive path I was on were not things I was proud of. I wanted so desperately to change, but I had no idea how. I just wasn’t good enough to succeed at anything. The only positive thing left was my desire to try.

I started dating a guy when I was thirteen, falling hopelessly in love with him. True to form, my mother told me I would never do better and on my sixteenth birthday we were engaged. We moved in together after high school and married at nineteen. We had two beautiful kids together, and that was the turning point in my life. Being a good mother was something I could accomplish.

Marrying so young was wrong, we both knew it. We were drawn to each other for all the wrong reasons. It was bad for him, it was bad for me, it was bad for the children, so I started my road to recovery by divorcing him. We never harbored any hate or animosity for each other and frankly I liked him better once we lived apart. He became a better father and a better person and I too became a better human being.

I began to reinvent and get reacquainted with myself. I faced my problems with the help of psychologists and social workers, who taught me healthy parenting and life skills. With their help and encouragement I learned to talk with my kids and to value them for who they were. I am able to guide them toward realizing their full potential through encouragement and emotional support. And, I have stayed clean and sober.

During therapy I remembered the sexual abuse and came forward to have the man arrested and charged with his crimes. I felt wonderful, vindicated and strong when he was convicted twenty years later for the crimes he committed against me.

I look back with 20/20 hindsight and wonder why my educators never picked up on my abuse. The signs were there, I read it in my report cards. About a sullen little girl who sulks and wants to be the center of attention, and cries. No, I don’t want to be the center of attention. I just want to be loved. Can’t you see that! I remember all the incidents as if they were yesterday and have worked hard to move beyond feeling like a victim.

Today I feel lucky. I have a wonderful husband, two more great kids and a home in the country, a life far beyond the dreams of a kid being drowned in the toilet. I have never beaten my children or belittled them. I overcame great odds, faced the loathing and shame, and grieved for the loss of my childhood so that the cycle stopped with me. In its place a life centered on love and nurturing has taken root and I am careful to plant more seeds and water them daily.