Going Inkless

     When I applied to be an exchange student, it was at the suggestion of my French teacher.  Mme. LaFrancis (and with that name, how could she have been anything but a French teacher) was one of the people in my life who believed in me enough to make me think that the world could be open for me in spite of the hurdles.  I was in my third year of French at the time.  The first year had been a normal classroom experience, but the second and third were independent study.  Mme. LaFrancis saw enough promise in me that she arranged for me to continue in French despite schedule conflicts.  We would meet for 15 minutes of each 30 minute lunch period for me to turn in assignments, ask questions or take tests.  The rest was all on my own time.  I was no expert, but I was comfortable with the language at that point.  I wrote to a pen pal in French, entertained myself by taking notes for other classes in French, and even read an untranslated ...

I know a beacon when I see one. Who doesn't? They're the sun-bright people doing big things in the world. They beam their light into dark corners and lead others to safe places. Beacons transform the world despite improbable odds. They inspire, and people are drawn to them like moths to...well, a big bright light. Most beacons think nothing of their solar qualities. They are who they are. They'll do what needs to be done in the ways they're most comfortable doing things - which is big, bold, inspiring. I think they succeed, at least in part, because the gods love those big daring stories as much as we do. (And maybe Fortuna is fond of flashy lights. Seen Vegas?) Beacons exist at all levels of recognition, of course. You don't have to be internationally known or even a local celebrity to be one. We can all probably think of someone we know personally who fits the bill. It seems to be a collection of personality traits or mode of behavior more than anyt...

More than once, I've been with a friend looking up into the star-speckled night sky and heard them say "Look how small we are." The reaction and the reasoning that leads up to it vary depending on whether the friend leans scientific or spiritual. One could even tell you precisely how small you are compared to all the familiar heavenly bodies and venture a guess on the vastness of space beyond. Regardless of the tone of the awe, most seem struck by the contrast. Compared to the whole of creation, we are tiny, tiny, insignificant things. A humbling thought, without a doubt. Now, take that initial thought and step into the next. What lessons does the great big universe have to teach? What, other than humility, can we gain by contemplating the vastness? The universe may seem like something huge, but really, it is a collection of billions and billions of individual things. I'm not just referring to us humans, but every living thing and every non-living thing, too. ...