we made it. We made it. We made it, we made it, we made it. 

Here I stand. Here do I stand. Here do I stand, so so close to the very top of a soon-summited mountain, a treacherous mountain, a mountain I’ve known my entire life, such that I’d not known I was on a mountain until the meditative aerial mind granted me glimpses of what else could be. 

Here do I stand. It’s almost finished. Graduation is near. I can see the mountain’s peak. 

What have I learned? 

How can I put it into words? What I can say is this:

If any of my suffering has granted me the ability to be more compassionate to other people’s suffering, then it will have been worth it. 

If the pursuit of healing my own pain has granted me the ability to help others heal their pain, then it will have been worth it. 

If my home life has merely granted me a wider perspective of how humanity can express itself, to see some of the shadows of humanity and learn to love it anyway, then it will have been worth it. If it’s granted me the ability to see light in shadows, then it will have been worth it. 

Because all of these “ifs” ring true, then I can say, definitively:

It has all been worth it. 

My own struggles, unseen by others, has granted my life depth, meaning, and purpose. What is so bad about suffering? Is there such thing as suffering well? Is there such thing as healthy suffering — can suffering bring forth the potencies of the spirit? Can strife beckon us to call forth our natural talents, to hone them, to sharpen the sword? 

I know that my life has meaning. I want to bring love into this world. I want, I will, and I am. 

My future home will at last be a sandbox for my hands to do the shaping. These hands want to create good works. They will.

At last, it will be a place of my own creative light to shine forth. The way that I know a home should be run, it will be run. The peace I know a home can bring, it will bring. The healing and respite the home front can be a lighthouse of, it will. 

It’s time to leave the cocoon and spread my wings.

It’s happening. 

This is what I want:

to live an honorable life. to bring love and goodness into this world, to humble myself and live better than I’ve seen. I have overcome certain circumstances; I want to empower others to do the same. I want them to know that I see them, I see their suffering, I see their pain. I want to grant them love, a light, a helping hand in the midst of their strife. This life has meaning, and that meaning is in loving and being of service to others. It is a humble privilege to be able to help others. What else could grant a life deeper meaning and beauty than that? 

It’s happening. About a single month. A month. How can this be? I am going to have my own home in one month. 

Just… wow. It’s here. I am so beyond grateful. 

If I had not gone through anything — if I didn’t meet challenges in the home front — what would my life be? Would I have dug deeper into my soul without the pain? Would I have wanted to do anything beautiful with my life without that pain? Would I have a fire lit under my ass to create something good? 

I really don’t think I’d be who I am without certain trials and tribulations. I don’t think I’d have certain critical character traits that I value without the struggles. 

I can honestly say that I am grateful for it all: I am grateful for the love and immense blessings my home life provided. I am grateful for the suffering and hardship it provided. I am grateful for everything, good and bad, light and dark, that has created who I am today. 

This is something I know about myself: when I say I am going to do something good, when I say I will bring love and healing into this world, I will do it. 

I love every single person that has ever been a part of my life. Every single individual, every person I’ve ever come across or will come across. I am immensely grateful to all of them. I’d be nothing without those in my life who have granted a helping hand, a shining light, along the way. 

I want to thank them by doing something good with my life. 

Actions speak louder than words. May my actions, may the product of this life, howl with fury my gratitude — my own unique “thank you.”