How Can I Not…

I read a statement earlier today that’s been bugging me, that said;
“The real flex is how many people’s lives you can positively impact”

Now, I’ve often thought that there might be some portion of Heaven where we would see all of the people for whom we made a difference for
and I’ve often thought a version of Hell would be to see all of the people we could have.
A sobering thought, indeed.
Recently a comment was made to me that AI (Artifical Intelligence) could create the most inspirational things a person would ever want to read, and it has haunted me a bit ever since.
This is the 2nd time in my Life where for a moment, my Passion and Purpose was questioned by the person it mattered to the most; Me.
And I turned to a few words I had penned in the past, and I was reminded once again.

Why do I write?
Some time ago now, I received a few letters from someone who questioned why I write the things I write.
I spent several weeks delaying my answer to this question, while I went on a mission that had me going through ALL of my posted writings, copying every comment that anyone had ever left me that spoke of what a difference I had made because of something I said.
Page… after page… after page…
The one thing that kept echoing in my head was:
“How can I not write ?!!???”
That’s the tougher question.

How can I not reach out to someone who needs a hand?
How can I not share with another who is starving?
How can I not give to someone who is desperate?
How can I not touch someone who is within reach?

Some time ago, I watched the movie “Pay it Forward”.
I have much to say (at another time) about that movie, but right now, a particular scene comes to mind – where a lady was about to jump off of a bridge.
What intrigued me was that she didn’t look the “type” of person that would have any real worries — let alone take her own life.
So much for appearances.
Along comes this strung-out druggie who can’t seem to get a leg up in Life and stand on it, with not much going for him at all. He sees her, and tries to talk her down off the edge of the railing. She tells him to go away, that it’s not his problem, she’s not worth it.
He pleaded with her: “Do me a favor—Save MY Life.”
I want that to really sink in.
And while you’re really getting the depth of that, I’ll tell you something that you already know -
and something that you don’t.

I believe that you and I have the power and capability to make a positive impact in the lives of those around us.
For those who really DO know this, you also know that rarely are we aware of it, and seldom will we ever know it happened! AND in many cases, we’re not even directly involved!
Yet because of your words, your deeds, your actions –
YOU were the catalyst for change;
YOU were the hand that kept me from falling.
Yes, I said “me”.

Here is probably the only and last time I will share this -
I’ve been on that rail; I’ve been the one who wasn’t “worth it”.
And it’s because of those many Unknowns who have said “Save MY Life” that I came to realize a greater purpose, and by extending their hand to grab mine, we’ve pulled each other to safety.

Why do I write?
Because of you,
and because of you, I can