The Land of Enough

“Who is rich? One who is happy with their portion.”

– The Mishnah

My mother died on Christmas Eve, 1961, when I was four, my sister six and our father recently back from the Korean War, where he had witnessed so much carnage close up — including the time he lost a mate in a literal flash, standing just yards away. “He was there and then he wasn’t.”

I had thought that with the loss of my mother at a young age and the subsequent loss of a friend in third grade and a grandfather a few years later, that I understood loss. But I was just a rookie.

My days are filled with work, and what little time remains is comprised of only simple things — a walk in the woods with a neighbor, a book, cooking, feeding the wild animals that surround my home in the woods, exercise, prayer and reflection. It turns out that the constant desire for more and social climbing are a Jacob’s ladder to nowhere.

I think about all the things I have learned from crushing losses and, although I have lost sleep over the decisions I should have…

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