“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
In the middle of October in 1921, Franz Kafka wrote in his diary, "Life's splendor forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come." I want to seek the splendor, not summon it. The thrill, I've decided, is in the seeking. I want to seek it in my relationships with my parents, Judy and Paul, and my sisters, Nancy and Lynne. What I have with them is always growing, always changing, sometimes challenging, always transcendent. I want to seek the splendor in love and marriage and children. My love of children has just become concrete like never before with the arrival of my niece and nephew, Anna and Jake. I want to seek the splendor in my career. I want to become expert at something related to building strong, lasting organizations. And then teach others what I know. I'll know what that something is before long. Ultimately, I want to build a strong, lasting organization of my own. I want to seek the splendor in community involvement, in continuing with my work in environmental education and after-school programs for inner-city kids. I still can't believe how lucky I am; I want to keep adding to the lives of those less lucky. And I want to seek the splendor in physical exhilaration playing ultimate frisbee, rollerblading through traffic, and getting lost in the forest.
Ready or not, here I come.
Ready or not, here I come.
— Michael Echenberg