I read a friends blog the other day and it was all about mobs and being a part of an organized group.(http://www.sallylucywrites.com/2012/04/notes-from-the-cottage-get-mobbed-its-fun/) I loved the story but it made me a bit sad. It made me realize I've spent 49 years on this earth and I have no mob to speak of. I am not a part of anything. I do not actively participate in any groups or organizations and I have nothing to show for myself as far as community involvement. I am horrified to think I've lead such a sheltered and isolated existence, offering no value or assistance to anyone.
I was not always so far removed, but it has become a learned behavior. I do not want to be responsible for anything other than my own family. I do not want to be the bridge that falters or the transport that fails. I have enough relying on my shelter without expanding my campground. I am a pop tent not an RV and I know my limitations, yet I feel selfish and negligent. I am capable of more, but I fear I am a failure and disappointment, among an army of soldiers that have me beat in the fields of courage, purpose and selflessness. I do not want to be the failure that had all the tools but none of the focus. What keeps me from being the soldier that doesn't need to fight but chooses to anyway, out of a sense of honour and dignity? It is an unknown factor, that I continue to search for with each entry in my blog.
One of these posts will be the rifle that fires me up and sets me off on my life's mission, but until it gets loaded, I'll keep writing and sprinkling my pixie dust print until the big guns are found.
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