Neissa Raymond

Life is a sentence 
This we know 
It must end 
It can’t be a run on
It can’t be unceasing 
Sometimes it ends with a period 
Sometimes with an exclamation 
And worst of all 
Sometimes it ends with 
A question mark

Whatever awaits us after 
We don’t know  
A purgatory, paradise 
Or the devil’s territory 
Or maybe simply nothing 
And our last valedictory 
Are the obsequies 
That mark the end of our sentence 

But no story 
No, tale worth telling 
Isn’t filled with many 
Sentences 
No matter how long or short
And in our retellings 
Of this very story 
Fondly we’ll remember 
And tearfully too 
The sentences that came before 
As hopefully as will be 
Playing a role in a larger story 
And in the unknown of 
What’s succeeding 
We can take comfort
In knowing we 
Wield the pen 
That marks our sentence.  

Poetry

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Neissa Raymond asks to consider the ongoing stories of our lives.

A Long Sentence

Zayna Mian

With just 16 years to account for on this earth, I wondered if I was being presumptuous in attempting to tackle the question of what it means to have really lived. So, I turned to the lives of those in my immediate circle.

With just 16 years to account for on this earth, I wondered if I was being presumptuous in attempting to tackle the question of what it means to have really lived. So, I turned to the lives of those in my immediate circle, such as family members, to gain insight into the key determinants of a meaningful existence. 

As Julius Caesar once remarked, “experience is the teacher of all things.” This made me reflect on whether accumulating experiences helps us live life to the fullest. The first person who came to my mind as someone who embodies this example was my 94-year-old grandfather. Whenever I converse with him, I feel that his wide-ranging experiences, spanning nearly a century, have truly strengthened his character. Surviving the Second World War followed by the tumultuous partition of India and Pakistan, the greatest human mass migration in history, living through personal tragedies, including the death of a beloved younger brother, and serving as a village leader and chairman of a leading business have all made the trajectory of his life remarkable. Conversations with him are usually peppered with anecdotes, which reveal the interpersonal skills, understanding of human nature, ability to appreciate different perspectives on life, and capacity to adapt to changing times that he has gained from a multitude of experiences. More importantly, he frequently recounts how each new experience has revealed more truths of life and consistently strengthened his personality. The variety of his experiences have given him exceptional wisdom and tenacity, which explains his overall success in life. 

Another aspect of my grandparents’ lives that I came across in my search for the drivers of a worthwhile life was the impact that they had on those around them. Until recently, I never associated the term “really lived” with my grandmother, who at 92 presumably had shared many of my grandfather’s experiences prior to her death two years ago. She embodied warmth and comfort and was content in a life surrounded by her children and grandchildren. Seeing her family well settled and happy was her vision of a purposeful existence. Her values will pass down through generations of our family and to some extent our village community. My grandmother’s impact on the lives around her may not comprise an exhaustive list and often goes uncredited. However, the emotional support and care that she gave to her nine children and husband, although restricted to her immediate family, still had a huge impact on paving the way for a next generation with strong morals and values. This goes to show that fulfilling duty as a parent or spouse with dedication and conscientiousness also represents living life to the fullest. On the other hand, my grandfather’s role as a village leader gave him the opportunity to impact the lives of many beyond his family. He has set up schools and medical facilities, solved domestic disputes and community squabbles, helped people find jobs, arranged marriages for orphans, advised people on local business opportunities, and represented the community in dealings with government institutions. To this day, he goes daily to the office of an NGO he has set up to listen to the problems of the underprivileged in our society and makes an effort to help in some capacity or the other. It is this facet of his life, where he touches the lives of hundreds, that convinces me that his journey is one I too should try to emulate. Overall, I feel that my grandparents’ lives demonstrate how harnessing opportunities to make a positive impact, however big or small, are a prime example of living life to its fullest.

Learning from experiences is another dimension that helps us add meaning to our lives. As I shifted my focus from my grandparents’ generation to that of my parents, I realized that the knowledge we gain from experiences or otherwise also contributes to charting life’s course. My father earnestly embodies this view by harnessing every opportunity to learn through reading books, listening to informative podcasts, and engaging people in meaningful discussions on a range of topics. His version of a meaningful existence focuses on the pursuit of knowledge and opportunities to gain new perspectives intertwined with efforts to develop others in the workplace and community. He admires eminent writers such as Dale Carnegie, who has written books on self-improvement and interpersonal skills, as well as Malcolm Gladwell for his unique perspective on coping and succeeding in the modern world. These books pass on useful knowledge to countless readers to assist them in managing and adapting to hurdles in life. Another example is that of my mother, who went back to university for another postgraduate degree in environmental management when I was around seven years old. As a child, I wondered why she took on an additional burden when she already had a seemingly settled life. I can now relate it to her desire to live life fully by availing herself of opportunities to improve her knowledge and skill base and contribute to the development of society. 

As I looked beyond my immediate circle toward the lives of remarkably selfless figures in philanthropy, such as Abdul Sattar Edhi, or scientists like Alexander Fleming, I realized that the key determinants for an impactful life were the same as the ones I had identified in my family members. Edhi selflessly made it the purpose of his life to uplift those in need. Alongside running the Edhi Foundation, he personally continued to bathe corpses left unclaimed in city slums and took care of unwanted babies left at his doorstep until his death in 2016. Even now, his donated eyes are continuing his legacy of unmatched magnanimity. The fact that Edhi’s efforts touched so many other lives highlights the value of his own life — a life really lived. Another example is that of Alexander Fleming, whose search for knowledge led to the discovery of penicillin, a lifesaving drug that helped transform the lives of many others. 

On a personal and much smaller scale, working with Akhuwat, an interest-free microfinance organization in Pakistan, gave me a glimpse into possibilities for having a positive impact on the lives of less privileged members of society by helping fund their self-livelihood initiatives. Even a small peek into this world gave me a sense of fulfillment and motivation to take up other projects through which I can be of benefit to others and add purpose to my own path. My journey with Akhuwat taught me that experiences also help give you a sense of direction in life. At the same time, I also feel that not all experiences are equal; some have a more lasting impact and opportunity for learning and contribute more significantly toward living fully. In my case, this experience turned out to be a health issue related to my eyes that required extensive consultations with doctors, several medical investigations, and medication, which in the span of just six months left me feeling as if I had aged several years. It’s probably because facing hardships increased my appreciation for the simple joys of life and shifted my focus more towards enjoying things in the moment, like sitting in a garden and observing the melodic humming of birds or reading a book aloud for my grandfather. I also came to appreciate my mother’s favorite quote, “the only constant in life is change,” by Heraclitus, as my health experiences forced me to be more realistic as opposed to idealistic and to find ways to cope and adapt to my changed circumstances. Through this painful period, I realized that experiences at any age can teach us what life is really about, and each new experience gives us another opportunity to reevaluate our path for the future, provided we are willing to learn. These experiences in turn can motivate us to have a positive impact on the lives of others. The pursuit of knowledge with the intent of helping others can span numerous fields, from economics and law to medicine and psychology. I personally derive inspiration for gaining knowledge to benefit others from scientists like Alexander Fleming. Perhaps one day, as an aspiring biochemist, I too can make a contribution to scientific research so that when I look back at my life, I see a lifetime spent pursuing knowledge to contribute to a bigger cause, and feel that I too have had an impactful existence. 

Experiencing life to the fullest can entail many different things depending on what meaning we derive from life itself. Life is a journey that is tumultuous by nature; throughout this journey we are constantly evolving, growing and learning, both mentally and physically. Life brings both its fair share of challenges and rewards and revolves partly around our circumstances, fate, and subsequent actions and reactions. Therefore, purposeful living is not something that can be easily quantified, because all of us have different circumstances, aims, aspirations and expectations in life. Reassessing where we stand in our lives and whether we have added value can help us adjust and define our path in life. At the end of the day, only we can be the true judge of what makes us feel that we have “lived” life based on our purpose and goals. To me, accumulating and learning from meaningful experiences, pursuing knowledge, and touching the lives of others all contribute to making life worthwhile.

In a KidSpirit Big Question article, teen writer Zayna Mian explores what it means to live a fulfilling life.

How Do We Determine that We Have Really Lived?

Po-Ting (Duke) Lin

Two years ago, I remember receiving a call from my best friend George at 6:28 AM, saying that his mother was dead. 

George, three years younger than I am, lives right across my street and has been close to me since the moment he was born. His mother and my mom had been friends since high school, so his mom often left George at our house to play when he was young. We are practically brothers. George is the type of guy you can count on to lift your mood when you are down and the cute younger brother who tags along everywhere you go. As a result, whenever I am around him, I feel a sense of responsibility to become a role model for him to follow.

That morning, I sat on my bed, paralyzed. A memory of George’s mother bringing the both of us to the amusement park three years ago suddenly hopped out of the blue. I saw the merriment on her face, how she said to her son, “Remember, whenever you need someone and I am not there for you, go find Duke.” And now, all I felt was the guilt rushing through my veins – I was not there when George really needed me. 

On October 1, 2008, things had changed. That day was not only George’s fourth birthday, but the day we never ever brought up during our conversations. The day before, I was shopping for his favorite chocolate brand, Hershey’s, as a birthday gift. As soon as I walked into his house the next day, a loud shrieking clang of broken glass jolted us all. Everything suddenly shattered into thousands of unrecoverable pieces. It was a day full of blood and thunder, as my family and I witnessed George’s inebriated dad threatening his wife with fractured pieces of glass. My mother dashed toward George’s mother, yelling, “Stop, Alex! You are hurting her!” Of course, her attempt to halt the situation was futile. I then turned my attention to my friend, who surprisingly was not even bothered by the conflict. “What are they doing?” I asked him witlessly. George glanced at me for a moment, and simply claimed, “He just came back from the bar. Come and watch TV with me. I am bored.” As a nine-year-old, I did not know how to respond. All I did was walk toward the sofa while my inner self was penetrated with unimaginable fears. Everything happened so swiftly that I had not even realized an hour had passed. Yet, now, I finally realize what George meant by “bored”; he was “bored” with the things that had repeatedly occurred during his childhood. After George’s mother was covered with bruises and thrust to the brink, she finally convinced her husband to leave the house. “And fortunately,” George told me years after that situation, “he never came back.” 

The first time that I saw George after this incident was three years ago. We used to hang out a lot through phone calls, but we had not met often after his mother was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. George always told me that his mother was very tired after going through phases of chemotherapy, so I had decided not to bother him. Yet, since George was young, George’s mother had always wanted me to help George with his school work. Once, I remember George asking me about the Battle of Actium when I helped him review for his upcoming history test. I still remember the ignorance within his mellow voice, “What happened to Antony and Cleopatra?” I told George how both of them fled to Europe and committed suicide. Instantly, I saw the dissatisfaction on his face. “If it were me,” he said with pride, “I would have never hoisted the white flag.” The next day, George told me how he failed the test when he was asked to write a brief summary of the war instead, he created a story of his own, a story of how Antony and Cleopatra left no stone unturned and fought for victory. I saw George sitting alone in the corner, looking at the red-inked “F” on his test. “It’s okay. Your response is way better. It clearly shows what you strive for and believe in,” I comforted him. Even till today, it is his stubbornness and uniqueness in the way he thinks that have always captivated me.

Soon after his mother died, however, I knew I had to do something even more. Every Saturday, I went to his house to teach him concepts on science and mathematics, and simply chat with him about school. Hearing how many of his classmates saw him as a child without a parent sometimes pushed me to tears. Yet, I knew I had to act as a strong role model – I knew I had to guide him as his older “brother,” hoping that he would understand that there would always be someone standing with him. To this day, George and I meet together with our friends every weekend. Seeing how he has changed and grown into a mature teenager simply makes me proud of his accomplishments; at the same time, seeing George becoming independent somehow numbs the guilt I felt back in the days. George is no longer the quiet, timid kid who needed my guidance. He is now conducting research at a local hospital, still curious about the world around him. George has taught me how to stay curious and think positively. After all those years of spending time with him, the numbness quickly turned into a feeling of satisfaction, as I could finally understand and appreciate the beauty of giving others a helping hand.

In a KidSpirit Helping Hands article, teen writer Po-Ting (Duke) Lin shares what serving as a role model for a friend in need has taught him about helping others.

"Brothers" Forever

Satya Shaw

The Good Place, created in 2016 by Michael Schur, is a fantastic show and will appeal to a wide variety of people. It perfectly balances and mixes sheer comedy, subtle (as well as not-so-subtle) philosophy, and drama. 

The show follows four flawed but ultimately good main characters: Eleanor, Chidi, Jianyu, and Tahani. It opens in a white room with a few potted plants and a bland sofa. On the far wall in big green letters is written, “Welcome! Everything is fine.” Eleanor opens her eyes suddenly; she’s surprised by where she is. A man named Michael walks in through double doors and welcomes her into his office, where he explains what’s happening. We learn that Eleanor is dead, and she’s now in “the Good Place,” where she’ll live for the rest of eternity. One by one, we meet the other characters, and they work together in order to keep their blissful lives in the show’s take on heaven (and hell). 

Each character has a particular flaw that we dive into throughout the show, and we see these most plainly in the ways that they die. Eleanor’s lack of compassion for other people puts her in a situation where she is, ridiculously, run over by a line of shopping carts. Chidi, a moral philosophy professor, is overly indecisive; he has trouble deciding on a bar to go to with his friend, and while weighing the pros and cons of each, getting preposterously abstract, he gets crushed by a falling air conditioner. Tahani, constantly compared to her sister, is filled with jealousy and dies by getting crushed by a massive golden statue of her sister. Because of spoilers, I won’t tell you how Jianyu dies. Despite these flaws and being dead, they all come together to become better people, with Chidi as a teacher. With actual philosophers helping the writers, the group discusses things like Kant’s “Categorical Imperative,” John Locke’s “Theory of Personal Identity,” and with some Good Place magic, they even experience “the Trolley Problem” first hand. When I first heard that philosophy was a central part of the show, I considered not watching it, but it’s integrated in such a brilliant way that you learn and think about things without even realizing it.

Even though the show takes place after the characters all died, none of them lived perfect lives. One of the show’s goals is to teach us that nobody can live a perfect life. We learn early on that every single thing you do on earth is given a point value. Ignoring a text message during an in-person conversation gives you 1041.54 points and fixing the broken tricycle of a child who is indifferent to tricycles gives you 2.10 points. Failing to disclose camel illness when selling a camel, on the other hand, deducts 22.22 points, and overstating a personal connection to a tragedy that has nothing to do with you deducts 42.30 points. There are a lot more funny ones and I recommend pausing the first episode to look at them. The very best of the best are the ones that get to come to the Good Place. As for everyone else? “Don’t worry about it.” But even though none of the main characters are perfect, they still do something nobody thought possible; they improve themselves significantly after death. And although they all work hard to become better, it’s clear that they shouldn’t have had to. Hardly anyone is good enough to make it to the Good Place, and anyone with fewer than 900,000 points will go down to the bad place.

Not only does The Good Place make the incredibly heavy subject of life and death entertaining and funny, it’s full of twists and turns that leave you speechless. Some jokes had me rolling on the floor laughing and some scenes had me crying. I was already in love with the show before the very last episode aired. The end really hit home; it was beautiful in a sad way, but it fit the story perfectly. It was kind of like that feeling of finding the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle under the coffee table, and slotting it in to bring the whole picture to life, but also bringing the whole experience to an end. It tied the whole show up perfectly. 

The show also uses special effects sparingly, but masterfully. The details in the set are there in some places, but everything is very clean and polished, which lends itself to the style of the show. I would give The Good Place a five out of five rating. It’s perfect for such a wide variety of people, I think there’s something in it for everyone. If you haven’t, I hope you start watching The Good Place soon. I’ll leave you with this iconic quote from Eleanor: “Pobody’s nerfect!”

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Satya Shaw reviews the television comedy The Good Place. 

“Pobody’s Nerfect!” Except, of Course, The Good Place

The Australia Editorial Board

The act of mourning essential strangers demonstrates our innate humanity and common desire for interpersonal connection. 

Death is the “permanent and irreversible cessation of all biological functions that sustain a living organism." 

It often brings us sadness from losing our loved ones and appreciation for cherished memories and times shared together. While the intensity of grief we experience often mirrors the closeness of our relationship with the deceased, this trend becomes perplexing once we consider the deaths of famous figures. The passing away of such figures, from celebrities to politicians to idols, are often immortalized in the narratives of public reports and the pouring flood of social media posts. Communities are often seen expressing their sympathy and heartfelt condolences in waves of public mourning, in which millions respond as if they had personal relationships with these individuals. Yet this is not true — for the vast majority of people, celebrities are not their friends. So why is it that we so sincerely grieve their deaths, even when we may never have met them? The act of mourning essential strangers demonstrates our innate humanity — our common desire for interpersonal connection and how we come together as a species to grapple with mortality and the issues that plague us.

With the advancement of the internet, celebrities seem to be more accessible than ever — we can read countless articles about them with a quick Google search, like and comment under their social media posts, and, if we’re lucky, even get a quirky reply. This unprecedented era of “relatable” celebrities has ushered in a culture where many falsely view the likes of Hollywood stars and sports personalities as friends. Mark Granovetter's theory of “Tie Strength” states that four factors establish a close relationship: sharing personal information, emotional intensity, duration, and frequency of interaction, as well as “reciprocal services” — assisting one another through favors. As a result of social media’s ubiquity in our modern technological era, these four factors are often met through interactions with celebrities online. When media personalities posting photos or reflections of their life are perceived as sharing intimate information by responsive fans, an illusionary “close” or “personal” relationship is often formed. During extended periods of watching, reading, and consuming content regarding admired celebrities, fans may feel as if they themselves have been a part of the celebrities’ growth and transition and perhaps even discover shadows of themselves through the experiences of these figures. This furthers the intimacy and emotional intensity that fans feel towards their idols, eventually developing into emotional attachments and even a psychological dependence known as “parasocial interaction”—the illusion that individuals hold a close relationship with their idolized celebrities despite having little or no personal interactions. Although parasocial relationships themselves are not substantial, the emotions associated with such relationships are evidently sincere. 

Through parasocial interactions, we find ourselves genuinely happy for our idols’ achievements and empathetic to their struggles; we become inspired and motivated by them; we appreciate their interests, tastes, and values; and we care for them just as we would a friend. For instance, the grief that transpired after Kobe Bryant’s death far surpassed what a simple celebrity-fan relationship warranted. People on social media platforms such as Twitter talked about him as a basketball player, a philanthropist, and a pioneer of the sport, but for every one of those tweets, there were five more addressing him as a brother, a friend, and a personal inspiration, because his “Mamba mentality” — the mindset of "focusing on the process and trusting in the hard work" — had motivated many of his supporters beyond basketball alone. For many people — especially African Americans — he was living proof that hard work does lead to success and thus an icon that many followed zealously.

Similarly, many claim that they were shocked and devastated when rock band Linkin Park’s lead vocalist Chester Bennington passed away, recalling when his energetic and encouraging music pulled them out of the depths in their darkest times. His profound performances combined with his history of drug and alcohol abuse made him relatable to people with similar troubles — hearing him sing felt like hearing someone who knew what they were going through and was one of them. Perhaps it is precisely this unspoken connection and perceived relationship that allows Bennington’s listeners and Kobe’s supporters to grieve for them as if they had truly lost a loved one — perhaps they had, in some sense, however one-sided the love may be. 

Grieving for famous figures also serves as a reminder of human mortality and opens discussions to social issues that are often evaded by all of us. Famous figures are perceived by many as representations of invincibility and perfection, with talents and accomplishments that entice eager followers to continuously pursue further information. Yet these illusions of invulnerability are often shattered when we see and grieve the demise of such an individual. Through mourning their passing, we simultaneously recognize them as inherently mortal with their own imperfections and limitations, and we understand the unpredictable and impermanent condition of human life. Thus, we are able to achieve a greater understanding of and appreciation for the things we truly hold dear to our hearts, pursuing the sentiment of carpe diem, or "seize the day," to act and avoid potential regret. 

This was evident in the hours following Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death, as thousands of mourners flocked to the Supreme Court — a pilgrimage not only propelled by raw grief, but also the desire to seize the opportunity for change. Ginsburg was honored as more than just a feminist icon; she was a loving grandmother to girls, women, non-binary people, and those who yearned to speak with a powerful voice for change. To celebrate her memory and carry on her legacy, many mourners chose to donate to organizations or causes they believed she would have supported, using grief as fuel to engage in activism. Even wearing a face mask bearing an image of Ginsburg or one of her famous quotes allowed others to feel as if they were carrying on her values and mission. 

Concomitantly, South Korean singer and actress Sulli’s death sparked soul-searching on misogynist culture and journalism ethics — reports linking her suicide to years of constant online abuse and cyberbullying saw many petition her agency and the South Korean government to enact stronger measures against the unceasing waves of hate comments directed towards celebrities. South Korean singer-songwriter Jonghyun’s suicide also raised great awareness about the significance of mental health and battles against depression — having held a concert just days prior, his death reminded many of how depression and mental health issues are often invisible killers. Hence, through mourning the deaths of these famous figures, supporters address significant social issues, opening discussions to confront life and death. And this form of remembrance can be especially cathartic — an outlet to process or express a range of emotions and thoughts that have been suppressed within.

Mourning for celebrities is not just about caring for a friend or confronting issues facing society — it is also a way of bringing people together in solidarity to rediscover a sense of "us" through mourning. Academic research and social surveys indicate that we often endure increasing degrees of mental isolation and therefore possess an innate desire for social connection. Dr. John Lucas, professor at Weill Cornell Medical College, claims that engaging in celebrities’ lives “fill[s] a gaping and painful void in [our own] lives.” With the significant lack of in-person social connectedness during the COVID-19 pandemic, the masses’ psychological dependence on social networks and celebrity engagement has only strengthened. Amidst the social distancing, quarantines, and lock-downs, many have relied upon celebrities and media to connect them with the broader community and retain a sense of togetherness. But with the deaths of such celebrities, people must turn to each other to retain these social connections. When people mourn collectively, especially the deaths of influential famous figures, they receive support from others and are able to share memories or thoughts within a community, drawing together people from all walks of life in cherished companionship. Moreover, mourning kindles an understanding of what we have gained and what we have lost, instigating reflection on our collective values so they are not forgotten. 

Not knowing someone in person does not preclude us from grieving for them — in fact, grieving for famous figures is an integral part of many lives, because in our hearts we truly do carry a dear and infrangible connection with these loved individuals and with each other, however one-sided that connection may be. It is inherently human to want to connect with others; mourning a public figure provides us with a common platform to forge these connections with each other, and with this form of solidarity, we become better — more likely to express our sincerest sentiments, more able to empathize with and console others, and more willing to face our own mortality and the issues which plague our world.

Carter, S. (2012). "Emotions Are Contagious—Choose Your Company Wisely." [online] Psychology Today. Available at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/high-octane-women/201210/emotions-are-contagious-choose-your-company-wisely.

Golbeck, J. (2016). "You’re Not Really Friends with That Internet Celebrity." [online] Psychology Today. Available at: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/your-online-secrets/201607/youre-not-really-friends-internet-celebrity

Gottberg, K. “Why We Mourn The Death Of Celebrities.” SMART Living 365, 15 Aug. 2014, www.smartliving365.com/mourn-death-celebrities/.

Karaivanov, A. “A Social Network Model of COVID-19.” PLOS ONE, vol. 15, no. 10, 29 Oct. 2020, p. e0240878, 10.1371/journal.pone.0240878.

Lucas, J. (2009, June 26). "The Psychology of Celebrity Worship." https://health.usnews.com/health-news/healthday/articles/2009/06/26/the-psychology-of-celebrity-worship?

Singh, T, and Khan, A. “Social Cure During COVID-19: The Role of Social Connections, Social Networks and Digital Technologies.” Frontiersin, 22 Mar. 2020, www.frontiersin.org/research-topics/16603/social-cure-during-covid-19-the-role-of-social-connections-social-networks-and-digital-technologies#overview.

www.dictionary.com. (2019). the definition of death. [online] Available at: https://www.dictionary.com/browse/death?s=t.

In a collaborative KidSpirit Feature article, teen editors in Australia ask why we mourn celebrities and famous figures we have never met. 

Mourning Those We Have Never Met

Max Mesh

As I walked into the hospital, I felt remorse about not having visited my 103-year-old great-grandmother enough. 

At nine years old, I was scared to see Barbarita for what I was told would be the last time. This was my first real encounter with death, and I didn’t know what to do. I walked out of the elevator onto the fourth floor and I immediately saw 20 family members spilling out of her room, waiting to say goodbye. I walked into Barbarita’s room, where I saw her on her deathbed. Nothing could have prepared me for the terror I felt. With a simple glance, I knew her time was coming.  The only signs of life were her shallow breathing as I watched her chest rise and fall ever so slightly. This paralyzed me with fear. I didn't want to do or say the wrong thing since I knew her time was so precious. I could feel the sadness coming from my grandma, Nemma, as she saw her mother slipping away. Nemma grabbed Barbarita’s hand and raised it to give me a prayer. Then I could hear Barbarita’s fragile voice mumbling prayers to all of her great-grandchildren. 

My mom’s side of the family is very large, and there were a lot of people who came to the hospital in Barbarita’s last days. And as she took her last breath, the family sat in silence for a long time. I was reflecting on Barbaritas life. Sadly, Barbarita lost a number of people during her long life, including her parents at a young age, later her husband while they were raising eight children, and her first baby grandchild. This scarred her and made her paranoid about all of the bad things that could happen to people. She started to become fearful of the awful things that could happen. This was the beginning of her overprotectiveness that would stick with her all of her life. Tragedy struck again and again, teaching Barbarita that bad things happen in the world, and how important it is to protect yourself and the ones you love.  

Nemma (my grandma) married and gave birth to three girls. She then moved to New York when she was 23. Barbarita agreed to take care of my mom and her two younger sisters while Nemma was working and sending money back home to Ecuador. My mom was only five when her mom came to the United States. Thus, Barbarita raised my mom and her sisters. In a way, my mom learned some good lessons about how to avoid trouble and how to be careful of people and situations that could be dangerous. She taught these lessons to us, which has made us be thoughtful about situations and people. In another way, my mom was very unhappy that Barbarita never allowed her to go out to parties or social events and she missed a lot growing up. This made my mom teach us the lessons of being careful. Yet, she also wanted to raise us to enjoy doing things like travelling that she never did when she was growing up. 

When my mom finished high school she, her sisters, and Barbarita were reunited with my mom’s parents in the Bronx. Life in America was very different, and Barbarita, Nemma, and my mom continued to be very protective of their family members. Nemma can be very strict and doesn't like me or my sisters to leave the house. She is always thinking of the bad things that can happen, and it took years until she finally allowed a friend to visit our house.  My mom is a little different. She can still be overprotective at times, but she also has learned to take risks, like marrying my dad, who was born and raised in the United States with a different background. Mom got her wish to travel with my dad, and as a family we have gone to many places that mom dreamed of going when she was a little girl. 

With all Barbarita’s knowledge of natural remedies and a healthy diet, she was one of the purest and healthiest people I knew. She would drink a drop of pernic blood in red wine for her vascular health. She rarely saw doctors because she did not trust them, and she had natural remedies and teas that she would give herself whenever she felt sick. She lived healthy and strong for the rest of her life. So, I now see the influence of Barbarita on her daughter Nemma, her granddaughter (my mom), and on me. I can see how Barbarita has influenced everyone, including me, to be very thoughtful about situations. I don't live in fear like my great-grandmother, but I tend to analyze situations to evaluate the risk. I am very grateful to have learned important lessons, and I feel that Barbarita’s legacy for me is to make better choices so I can live a better life.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Max Mesh shares what he learned from his grandmother's life, as well as her passing.

My Great-Grandmother's Legacy

Ayah Rathore

The concept of life and death has always been an interesting one. A cold, dead mystery surrounds it, one that we’re never sure will ever be solved. 

In my faith, uncertainty is certain. What comes after death has always been a strangely normalized but still intimate and unanswerable question. Yet, also a question that continues to receive new answers continually. Because, after all, no matter how much we love to avoid the bitter, stinging truth, we all will die, and the fear of not knowing what will happen with us afterward is one that leaves us awfully numb. Shall we stay dead? Who knows? Not me, not you. 

I grew up in a fairly broken household. Despite their trying to shelter me as much as possible, I took notice of all the fights and dirty looks certain family members would shoot others, and the fact that we were constantly moving never helped the instability, either. We are Muslim, but by the time I was born, my parents didn’t have the energy to teach religion anymore, having already taught it to my three far elder siblings. And due to this, even though my family tried to teach me about happiness and light, my outlook on life became darker than the usual child's. So, because of my rocky upbringing, my beliefs were also quite rocky, and I never had anything that was 100% certain in my life.

But here comes the more dreadful, common question: What is the meaning of life? I know, I know, I can feel you rolling your eyes. “How overused,” you think, wondering why all of us, all people, seem to have the same boring, innocent mindset when it comes down to life. I agree that everyone thinks the same. And it's because we’re scared. We’re scared of the truth, we’re scared we won't like it. And guess what, we should be. Because the unknown is scary. And we know nothing. At least, I don’t. My faith isn’t strong like other people's.

When we talk about death, you tend to wonder. Does it hurt? Will I go to heaven? Is there a heaven? Well, don't look at me for answers, I know just as much as you, or even less. That's the point. With death, you can't decide, and you don't know. You can go two ways: accept that you know not, and live until you can’t anymore. 

You can take away a life whenever you want, whether it be your own life, or someone else's. It's almost funny how easy it is; one action, big or small, and it's gone, you're gone, they are gone. And you start to wonder about the possibilities, you start to wonder about the control you have. 

That is, if you have any; for all you know, you don't even control yourself. You can't know.

You can go mad thinking and worrying about all you can’t control. Maybe because you can't control anything, you could be perceived as but a meaningless speck in a vast universe. One on the surface of a planet that decides your fate. 

Because in the end, everything comes down to what you think. You're out here making an uneducated guess, and you will probably stick with it. In life, you decide what you want to do. You’re put into a laboring, unstable world, and you get no handbook. You live, and you learn, and then, in the end, when you take that somber last breath, you die with the knowledge that you made it, you did what you did and you lived with it, congratulations.

You live life judging things by your moral code. Something you create. It's humorous, really. Who are you to decide what is right or wrong, good or bad? Well, you are you, and you get to decide because you are the one who is living through all of everything pertaining to you. 

When you create, you make mistakes, and one tiny mistake could ruin it all. All you built, all you've achieved, your life. Something you did can indirectly cause your death, and that surely shows a lot, huh? Well, no. Living in an age where you have immense information right at the tips of your tiny little fingers sounds exciting. But, when you constantly see people fail, and ultimately ruin everything they have, it really changes the way you live your life. As a small child, I was exposed to so much, I perceived everything at such a rapid pace, that I ended up just being scared of that “everything,” with not much faith to rely on. 

You tend to think, as that is all you have. You have yourself, and then you have nothing. Because everything exists, then everything comes to an end, everything lives and everything dies. And we don't know why, we don't know. It hurts, it leaves a bubbling pain in your chest knowing you know nothing. 

We are all life, we are all light, until we are not. We control everything, but we have no control. We learn so much, but we know nothing. We are all contradictions of all we think we have, and we will never have the closure of certainty. Until we do. I was raised by a Muslim father who was kind enough to let me independently figure out my beliefs; my devout Muslim mother, on the other hand, was not so kind. My mother has a mental illness, so a lot of what she taught me was not coherent. But, from all the good things I remember, light is the main one. She taught me that we are all pure until we choose not to be, and that really stuck with me.

And you read this and you think, “How does this explain anything? It gives no insight on what this person thinks, everything is all so mixed up.’’ And yes, my dear reader, that is the point. You decide, or you don't. Because nothing is certain, and everything is permitted.

Now, you’ve listened to all I've said, and I've said nothing, but so much. So, take from this what you will, or what you won't. Here is the end, the figurative death of this writing. The life exactly 1,055 words long. 

In a KidSpirit Interfaith Connections article, young writer Ayah Rathore explores the fragility of life and what might come after death, informed by her own experiences and contemplation.

No Certainty

Mia Ginsberg

Have you ever thought about what it means to live?
We know the criteria to be alive,
Although hotly contested.
One needs heredity,
Growth,
Reproduction.
But what does it mean 
To live?
To transform
Our time allotted
Solely intended
To perform nature’s tasks,
Into meaning,
Fulfillment?

Many say there is a hole
A crater, 
In your soul,
That needs to be filled.
Others say to complete your tasks,
What else to do but what we’re meant to?
Still others say
Life
Is only precious
Because it ends.

We live with that knowledge,
That our impact is futile.
Yet we live in spite of it.
We believe our actions
Create consequences.
To be alive is to have a life force to use,
To have a world to walk in.
To live
Is to take that life force
And run with it.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Mia Ginsberg delves into what it means to truly live.

Just a Thought

Elías Viveros

Known as one of the most difficult concepts to define, life could be described as any form of existence that includes a cycle of birth, development, reproduction, and death. 

When it comes to the concept of life, we can include different areas, such as animals, plants, and so on. However, in the case of human beings, the discussion about what life is and its importance becomes more complex. They are  the only living beings that can reflect on abstract and incomprehensible phenomena.

Life is what allows us to grow, create bonds, and also relate to other living beings. In addition, life gives us the opportunity to learn, know the world, and partake in various activities that already go beyond biological functions. However, the complexity of today's societies often makes us forget this notion of how important life is. 

The culture in which I developed since I was born led me to understand the concept of valuing life. Here in Paraguay, as in many other countries, people have different visions when it comes to life and its meaning. Although there are a variety of thoughts, I notice that there is a common factor between these thoughts, one that is perfectly reflected in the Paraguayan culture.

Paraguay is a unique country, with infinite qualities, as well as defects. However, what I consider most important about the culture, and what helps when it comes to valuing life, is the kindness of the people, as well as their willingness to provide help to those who need it. Just to give an example, in this country, if at any time a person has the misfortune of suffering an accident in the middle of the road, the people around them will not hesitate for a single second to approach and help the affected person, all in an extremely fast time. This demonstrates the enormous solidarity that people have with each other, which leads us to reflect that, as a culture, Paraguay places enormous value on life, regardless of whether the person is directly affected by a problem.

Another point on which I like to reflect is the perseverance that many people have in this country to achieve their dreams and feel happy with themselves and with society. Here in my country, people always know how to manage to be happy. Regardless of whether a person is going through difficult and painful moments, they always look for a way to find an effective solution to the problem they are facing, and thus move on with their lives.

It is amazing to see how people seek to improve in so many aspects of their lives, every day. The ability people have to fight for each of their personal goals, and the perseverance with which they try to achieve them, is fascinating. In most cases, people have financial limitations, health issues, and lack of resources, among thousands of other problems. However, even with all these obstacles, there are thousands of people who wake up every morning focused on achieving their goals and getting out of the most difficult moments. The optimism and value that people give to their lives motivates me greatly. Paraguayan culture has helped me, above all, to understand that life is simply wonderful, and that it is not good for us to let the difficulties we face make us not give it the value it deserves.

During my life, I have noticed that, as time progresses, people in general do not give enough value to life. Although it may seem so simple, having life is an enormous privilege. A person can lack everything, money, a house, clothes, luxuries, and so many other things; but as long as they are alive, optimism should never be lost. On the contrary, everyone should look ahead with the goal of a better future.

The optimism shown by Paraguayans is the common denominator that allows them to stand out in positive emotions. Values ​​such as solidarity and hospitality generate feelings of security and belonging, because people know that in the event of a problem, they will have the necessary help and the support of their loved ones.

The common factor among most Paraguayans is optimism. That's pretty good, because despite any adversity the person is experiencing, their optimistic spirit helps them to look forward. Optimism and a positive mind are the consequence of the way of seeing or evaluating situations and therefore, by making a positive analysis of events, a person can have positive emotions such as hope, joy, and enthusiasm, among others.

What makes the Paraguayan people different from the people of other countries? Among many reasons, in Paraguay, it is not common to see individualism; people are used to having social contact, to being constantly linked to recreation groups and family members. This promotes positive attitudes that discourage confinement and in turn bring them out of states of frustration or depression. Therefore, it is possible to have positive daily experiences, and this strengthens the optimistic vision of people.

 The truth is that life is about facing the hardest moments, fighting the biggest obstacles first, but we must also remember that at the end of the process, there is always a solution for every problem, and the satisfaction of having overcome adversity has no comparison. I am convinced that this is what should encourage us to continue living with the greatest possible optimism and hope, so that in this way we know how to value every minute of our lives.

In a KidSpirit Interfaith Connections article, teen writer Elías Viveros explains how Paraguayan culture instills optimism, solidarity, and an appreciation for life.

Approaching the Value of Life

Oryna Bielikova

Spring is a wonderful time
When the weather is warm and fine.
All the children are waiting for Easter
And families are playing Twister
In their houses full of a spring atmosphere
Parents are making something delicious on the grill.
Oh, an awesome spring sunset.
Mum is baking some homemade bread,
Everyone loves its smell.
And the neighbors are ringing the doorbell.
I love the storm in early May,
Oh, what an amazing day!
Now it is March
The flower gardens are satisfyingly large.
Butterflies flap their colorful wings,
Street musicians are fingering guitar strings.
Spring . . . what a wonderful period of time
And the sun is starting to shine!

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Oryna Bielikova welcomes the season of spring.

Spring

Lyla Cheary

Change is the thing
That leads you 
In a different direction

Change is inevitable
The inevitability of change
Is what's scary

Once your path is clear
You know where you're headed
And what you’ve been through

The biggest,
Baddest 
Wolf
Blocks the clearest road

However
Change doesn’t have to be
Bigger
Badder
Or scary

To me

Change becomes a gift 
Standing in your path
Showing you
The clearer way 
Isn’t the right one

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Lyla Cheary takes us on a journey to accept and embrace change.

The Wolf Is the Gift

Sylvie Green

The death penalty is one of many issues that divide America and the world. 

The morality and effectiveness of murdering those who murder is continuously discussed and debated. While some believe that by taking another’s life you give up your own right to live, others believe it to be hypocritical and counterintuitive for the law to do what the law is attempting to punish. While some believe that the death penalty deters and prevents capital crime, others believe that a life sentence does so just as well. While some believe that it is possible for our system to fairly and correctly decide who deserves to be executed, others believe that it is inconsistent and discriminatory. Capital punishment also enables America’s criminal justice system to unfairly execute people of color disproportionately. 

The death penalty dates back thousands of years. In 16th-century-BC Egypt, a man was accused of doing magic, and although executions were usually carried out with an ax during this time period, the man was ordered to kill himself instead because he was a noble. Fifth-century-BC Rome was similar. Laws were passed that made the death penalty for nobility different than that for freedmen or enslaved people. This was the case in many places around the world. At its beginning, the death penalty was used for many more crimes than it is today and was a much crueler process. One could be buried alive, drowned, or beaten to death for a crime as simple as stealing or disturbing the peace at night. In Rome, if someone murdered their mom or dad, they would be put in a sack filled with water, a dog, a rooster, a viper, and an ape. 

Today, only 53 of 193 countries worldwide use the death penalty, and more than 70% of the world’s countries have abolished it. There is an international trend away from the death penalty as more and more countries claim that it is a violation of human rights. According to the Cornell Law School Center on the Death Penalty Worldwide, the top five countries, in order of the most confirmed executions in 2019, were China, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and Egypt. The sixth was the United States. According to Amnesty International, which has been tracking executions worldwide since 1979, the 657 state executions in the top 20 countries was a decrease of 5% from 2018 and 60% from 2015. These numbers do not include thousands of annual executions kept secret by some governments. While internationally it is possible to receive the death penalty for committing common law crimes, in the United States capital punishment is used almost exclusively in murder cases or when a victim has died. 

In America, 28 out of the 50 states allow capital punishment. Each state has its own set of laws regarding the death penalty, including what crimes must be commited, how it is prosecuted, and how it is carried out. While the majority of these states use the lethal injection method of execution, as recently as 2018, some states still used electrocution, gassing, hanging, and a firing squad. Debate about the abolition of the death penalty has intensified over time in America, with many arguing that it is both inhumane and unconstitutional. In the 1972 case Furman vs. Georgia, the U.S. Supreme Court suspended the use of capital punishment on the grounds that it was “cruel and unusual punishment” and therefore unconstitutional. The court decided that the state’s laws were unfair and inconsistent in who received a death sentence and who did not. Between 1972 and 1976, 35 states rewrote their capital punishment laws to include the recommendations of the Supreme Court. The new laws had to clearly describe which capital crimes were punishable by death and make the application of the penalties more consistent. Then, in 1976, the court ended the moratorium on the death penalty, finding in the Gregg v. Georgia decision that the new laws removed the status of cruel and unusual punishment and were not unconstitutional.

The death penalty has a disproportionate effect on poor people and people of color. The statistics available from the United States Department of Justice’s 2020 publication of Capital Punishment Statistics, which tracks data through 2018, shows capital punishment is used disproportionately in cases against black people. The US population is 13% black and 76% white, but the population on death row is 42% black and 56% white. A black defendant is four times more likely to be executed than a white defendant. Additionally, ⅔ of people on death row for crimes committed as a juvenile are people of color. 

Out of all people executed for interracial murders since 1976, 21 have been a white defendant who killed a black victim while 297 have been a black defendant who killed a white victim. Those who kill white people are 17 times more likely to be executed than those who kill black people. A 2017 study found that in a group of murder victims that were about 50% white and 46% black, 75% of executed defendants had killed a white person while only 15% had killed a black person. Also, in 1990, the United States Government Accountability Office reviewed 28 studies and found that 82% have proven that the race of the victim impacts the likelihood of the defendant’s being executed. Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens wrote in 2010 that the fact that “the murder of Black victims is treated as less culpable than the murder of white victims provides a haunting reminder of once-prevalent Southern lynchings.” This inequality may be a result of prejudice from the usually majority-white judge and jury or systemic racism that leads to a lack of access to adequate legal defense. From 1988 to 1994, 75% of people convicted for drug trafficking under the “drug kingpin” law were white but only 11% of those convicted and put on death row were white. The other 89% were black or latino, and many of the accused were later found not to be kingpins, but instead “young black men in inner-city gangs or low-level individuals who had committed crimes for the kingpins” (ACLU Death Penalty Campaign). The ratio of black defendants to white defendants is hugely different from the ratio of black men sentenced to death to white men sentenced to death. This indicates racial bias in the capital punishment system. 

In other cases, ineffective court-appointed attorneys lead to unfair treatment under the law. Poor people often do not receive quality legal representation. If a defendant cannot afford their own lawyer, the government provides one for them. According to a workload study, cases of crimes that result in at least a ten-year sentence require 70 hours of legal work before a decision should be made. However, many defendants with court-appointed lawyers do not receive this necessary attention. One lawyer in 2017 had 194 cases in one day, including 34 high-felony cases. He had to do the work of five full-time lawyers to serve each client. This lawyer is not an exception. Federal funding for legal assistance for capital cases was cut in 1996, and state-appointed defense lawyers are often “underqualified, underpaid, overworked” (ACLU Death Penalty Campaign). In the system we have today, those who can afford private legal defense are much more likely to have proper representation than those who cannot.

For every nine people who have been put on death row since 1973, one has been exonerated, for a total of 172 people. The Innocence Project, a group that works to exonerate wrongfully convicted people, has found evidence that proves many people innocent after they have already been executed. Inadequate legal defense is one of the factors that lead to wrongful convictions, along with incorrect eyewitness testimonies, evidence withheld by the police, reliance on jailhouse informants, and racially biased jury selection processes. 

The overrepresentation of African Americans and Latinos in the use of capital punishment also appears in criminal convictions. One in three black men ages 18 to 35 are in jail, prison, on probation, or on parole. There are some crimes that are committed more by African Americans or Latinos, but, even taking these statistics into account, arrests, sentencing, and incarceration are not racially proportionate. Key decision makers, police officers, prosecutors, and judges are predominantly white, and sometimes exercise their discretion in ways that negatively impact people of color. When the Supreme Court struck down the use of the death penalty in Furman vs. Georgia, some of the Justices acknowledged that there is racial bias in the application of capital punishment. Again in 1987, the Supreme Court asserted that there is racial bias within our criminal justice system and stated that fixing racial bias in death penalty cases might require fixing racial bias in other criminal cases. 

The question of when it is okay to kill another human being sparks deep feelings in many people. Conversations about life and death should also address inequities in life expectancy, birth rates, health, criminal justice, and general quality of life for different groups of people. In every aspect of life and death, it is difficult for humans to remain truly impartial and create fair and equal treatment for all. But whether or not it is possible is a question we must continue to strive to answer.

Bedau, Hugo Adam, and Paul G. Cassell. Debating the Death Penalty: Should America Have Capital Punishment?   Oxford University Press, 2005. 

Hood, Roger. “Arguments for and against Capital Punishment.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc.

www.britannica.com/topic/capital-punishment/Arguments-for-and-against-capital-punishment. 

Jawando, Michele L, and Allie Anderson. “Racial and Gender Diversity Sorely Lacking in America's Courts.” Center for American Progress, 15 Sept. 2016. www.americanprogress.org/issues/courts/news/2016/09/15/144287/racial-and-gender-diversity-s orely-lacking-in-americas-courts/. 

Liptak, Adam. “A Vast Racial Gap in Death Penalty Cases, New Study Finds.” The New York Times, 3 Aug. 2020. www.nytimes.com/2020/08/03/us/racial-gap-death-penalty.html. 

Oppel, Richard A., and Jugal K. Patel. “One Lawyer, 194 Felony Cases, and No Time.” The New York Times, 31 Jan. 2019. www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/01/31/us/public-defender-case-loads.html. 

Reggio, Michael H. “History of the Death Penalty.” PBS, Public Broadcasting Service. www.pbs.org/wgbh/frontline/article/history-of-the-death-penalty/. 

U.S. Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, Bureau of Justice Statistics, September 2020, NCJ 254786. Capital Punishment, 2018 –Statistical Tables. Tracy L. Snell, BJS Statistician. 

Webb, Sam. “Which Countries Have the Death Penalty and How Many People Are Executed Every Year?” The US Sun, 4 Dec. 2020. www.the-sun.com/news/1128099/countries-death-penalty-how-many-people-executed-world/.

Widgery, Amber and Karen McInnes. “States and Capital Punishment.” National Conference of State Legislatures, 24 Mar. 2020. www.ncsl.org/research/civil-and-criminal-justice/death-penalty.aspx.

“Capital Punishment.” Bureau of Justice Statistics (BJS), www.bjs.gov/index.cfm?ty=tp. 

“Death Penalty.” Equal Justice Initiative, 14 Dec. 2020. eji.org/issues/death-penalty/. 

“Executions by Race and Race of Victim.” Death Penalty Information Center. deathpenaltyinfo.org/executions/executions-overview/executions-by-race-and-race-of-victim. 

“The History of the Death Penalty: A Timeline.” Death Penalty Information Center, 21 Dec. 2020. deathpenaltyinfo.org/stories/history-of-the-death-penalty-timeline. 

“Home - Cornell Center on the Death Penalty Worldwide %.” Cornell Center on the Death Penalty Worldwide, 18 Dec. 2020. deathpenaltyworldwide.org/. 

“International.” Death Penalty Information Center, 22 Apr. 2020. deathpenaltyinfo.org/policy-issues/international. 

“Race and the Death Penalty.” ACLU Death Penalty Campaign, American Civil Liberties Union. www.prisonpolicy.org/scans/aclu_dp_factsheet4.pdf.

“U.S. Census Bureau QuickFacts: United States.” Census Bureau QuickFacts. www.census.gov/quickfacts/fact/table/US/PST045219. 

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Sylvie Green explores how racial bias impacts the fairness of the death penalty. 

When Killing Is Legal

Nanyee Lin

Life is a darling thing
Kids gather leaves and tree branches and pebbles
Savor them like precious jewels
Admire the ever-changing clouds
Fascinated by every little thing

Life is a hopeful thing
A girl sits in the lab all day working with a professor
Her eyes are brightly lit like shooting stars
Eager to perform his work
She believes she can change the world

Life is a pointless thing
A boy sits in the classroom all day doodling in his books
The teacher is teaching history while giving him the looks
Droopy-eyed, there’s no passion in his blood
All he ever wanted is to become a designer

Life is a poisonous thing
A man is sick of all the suffering
Little by little, his optimism is deteriorating
He no longer sees life as darling and hopeful
He is now buried under the fear of failure and losing loved ones and death
But now he no longer fears Death
He opens the door and embraces it
Throughout his life, he has beaten nothing
Now he can say that he has beaten Death

Life Is a Darling Thing

Lama Surya Das

A good question is better than an easy answer. 

What is death to me? 
A good question is better than an easy answer. 

"Even death is nothing to fear
For those who have lived wisely."
~ The Buddha

They say everyone dies, and all things shall pass away. All is impermanent, fleeting, ungraspable. And yet, who shall truly live? What is our true life meant to be? And what does that even mean? This is my question for you, Dear Seekers and pilgrims in life. How to live and be(come) who and what we genuinely are and aspire towards? How to become the mensches we wish to see in this agitated world? Who shall we be?

I have lived my life with such questions. In fact, my teacher from Eastern Tibet, Lama Kalu Rinpoche, many decades ago nicknamed me “The Ocean of Questions.”  That’s my way of being and learning.  India’s freedom fighter Mahatma Gandhi said: “Learn as if you were going to live forever.  Live as if you were going to die tomorrow.”  

Life is indeed precious and amazing for those who discover how to wonder, to meaningfully connect and share in its bounty, and to live. If you can, find your own eternal questions, as light guiding toward your greater Self; then cleave to them.  One of my all-time favorite poets, the Bohemian-Austrian Rilke, reminds us: 

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."

Life as we know it — all beings, growing things, the mountains, the oceans — is impermanent, transient. Check it out and see what you find! Recognizing the fleeting and evanescent nature of all things helps us to loosen our grip on people, expectations, beliefs and ideas, and thus experience less “rope burn” from the irritation of holding on too tightly to that which is ever passing through our fingers. In India 2,600 years ago, the enlightened Buddha taught, “Life is like a dream, a mirage, passing bubbles on a shining stream, dewdrops evaporating on blades of grass, a rainbow, a candle flickering in strong wind, echoes, and precious beyond compare.” Let’s cherish and protect life, in all its forms. Has this vulnerable blue globe ever needed our care more urgently than now? Life is so precious and fleeting, tenuous; handle with prayer. 

This fact of life — impermanence and mortality — reminds me to savor and appreciate all that is gifted right here and now: this very breath, this very place, this very time with family, friends, Nature itself. Such a rich and abundant, miraculous inheritance we receive! So much others have done for us in this world, to nurture and protect us until we can do so ourselves and then pay it forward to others, to the next generations. To move from me to we. My pronoun is We. Please join me. We are all interconnected; that’s how we thrive, that’s how we exist. If we don’t pull together, we will be pulled apart. We includes all beings, our endangered environment and the variety of species that inhabit it. Unselfish service is the rent we pay for inhabiting this buddhafull blue and green, spinning globe.

Am I just one man standing before God, meditating with Buddha, I wonder? Right now I am sitting in my backyard garden, at a patio table with my laptop,  inhaling the flowers and bird-song through my senses on this altar called "earth."  Am I, as some feel, merely a tiny speck of dust in the cosmic fields, an insignificant grain of sand in the river of experience and the ocean of life? Or the main protagonist of this colorful, theater-like pageant? How far apart are you and I and heaven and earth, in truth? We may sometimes feel far from IT but it is never far from us.”

The artist Gaugin painted his big questions on his celebrated triptych painting Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going?  (see above). I often wonder about these eternal questions, don’t you? Who can say what is true, certain, authentic?  I believe we must seek to find out what is true for each of us:  true love, meaningful connection, genuine purpose, knowing that we can progress on our Holy Grail-like quest!  It’s not just a Q & A, one and done. Remember: Live into the questions. I have been a truth-seeker my entire adult life. As a teen, I struggled, wondering what was true and authentic, whose ideas and philosophy or way of life made sense. I turned to psychology, creative writing and reading, poetry, journaling, depth psychology, meditating, prayer and yoga as guides along the way. I went to India and the Himalayas in 1971, at 20 years old, to find what I was looking for: God, truth, inner peace, a better way of life. I followed my heart, my wonderings, and my nose also:  sniffing around the world for two and a half decades, sniffing out meaning, purpose, wisdom, warm love, and inner light with which to make a better life for myself and others. Gradually I was guided in making the inner journey, from me to we. Eureka!

We are all interconnected, interdependent. We all sail in the same boat, rising and falling, sinking or swimming together. As English poet John Donne wrote in 1624, “No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.” The venerable Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh calls it interbeing. I love that we have so much more in common than our differences. Don’t take my word for it, please, check it out. We, all around the world — of diverse faiths, races, colors, beliefs, politics, gender, languages, lifestyles — have so many of the same concerns, worries and challenges, in growing up as well as in making our way in the world as well as in passing away and onwards in the greater ecology of being. One humanity, one world, one family, one circle, one beloved community. The Dalai Lama of Tibet, a true sage and saintly spiritual master, says that the purpose of life is to be happy and make others happy. What might be your purpose, your calling, your gift, highest assignment?

Many have said that life is what you make of it. I say, we can’t control the wind, but we can learn to sail and navigate better.  Just look at those in our very midst who’ve overcome enormous obstacles finding their way to an extraordinary and connected life. I draw inspiration from people who pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, like Helen Keller and Abe Lincoln and the Olympic champion Wilma Rudolph. Many people don’t appreciate being told what to feel, think or do, and what they can or can’t possibly do. I know I don’t! Some things we very much need to consider, explore, investigate, work through and find out for ourselves. Learning to open our hearts and love deeply, for example: so undefinable, although everyone talks and sings about it. Let us not overlook our guides on the side — Elders (who may not be older!) and Teachers — mentors and benefactors who show up for us in various forms each and every day, as we live into our questions. How would you like to live your day, your life? Starting here and now. Dare to dream. Dare to love. Love comes not from outside but through loving. Like God, love is a verb.

We make this spiritual-wisdom journey together on planet earth. Seekers become finders, paying it forward; I call it the Great Mutual Reciprocity. I was born in Brooklyn and grew up in Long Island, New York, in a loving, middle class family. As a young person, I had a recurrent dream of being on the other side of the world, and wondering if I would ever get home or not. Every month or so I’d wake up from this dream and wonder where I was, and find myself back in my suburban bedroom not far from the Atlantic Ocean. Just before my Bar Mitzvah in 1964, I asked my dad, an accountant by trade, who had been in the Second World War, and later traveled to Europe and Israel with my mom, about that dream and the other side of the world. Dad said: “Jeffrey, don’t worry about it. It’s just a dream.” I guess that was my question and the form it took back then. How to get home?  I lived into it during my 20 years abroad in India, the Himalayas, and Japan. It was there I discovered a real sense of "home" and the aspiration to be a Bodhisattva, a spiritual helpmate, a torch-bearer, an awakener, for the benefit of others and work towards a better, kinder, more just world.

Discover your true and authentic Self and know the world, know God and whatever needs to be known. It is all within, as the masters recount.  This is decidedly not simply a selfish call to narcissism; rather, what we seek, we are. It is all within: within me, you, us, everyone, human and otherwise, always accessible, ever ready and open for business (not just busyness). Write and rewrite your big questions for living. Write your own epitaph and keep writing it, ever emergent. Assume responsibility for being part of the creative principle, an artist in the Art of Living. Assume your Buddha seat. Sit beneath the tree of life and be nourished and protected. Awaken as the morning star rises. 

Benjamin Franklin, one of my favorite Founding Fathers of the United States, wrote various versions of his epitaph, intended for his tombstone.  Here’s one:

"The Body of B. Franklin, Printer; like the Cover of an old Book, Its Contents torn out, And stript of its Lettering and Gilding, Lies here, Food for Worms. But the Work shall not be wholly lost; For it will, as he believ'd, appear once more, In a new & more perfect Edition, Corrected and amended By the Author."

Together, let’s be human beings (and not just human doings), mensches cherishing this impermanent, luminous gift of life — living into our questions, and trusting in all that is yet unresolved in our hearts. Question On, dear Seekers, and savor the exploration!  

In a KidSpirit PerSpectives article, renowned Buddhist teacher and writer Lama Surya Das shares his wisdom on the greatest mysteries of life and death.

What Is Death to Me?

Anoushka Panganamamula

I can 
        wait 
As I feel your scalpel 
Carve into my marbled flesh 
Engravings of love and joy 

I can 
        listen 
As you allow my ears to blossom 
With your gentle touch 
Marring my thoughts with words of your pain 

I can 
        imagine 
As you serenade me 
With tales of the past 
And enchant me 
With dreams of your future life 

I can 
        reminisce 
Warm afternoons 
Inside your studio 
Laughing as your hands began sculpting 
My clay twin 

I can 
        cry 
As I feel your fingernails 
Dig into my soft, gray skin 
Longing for my touch 

I can 
        choke 
As I watch your paper lips 
Glow as they singe 
And combust passionately 

I can 
        destruct 
As you can no longer bear
To see me 
In front of you again 

I can be 
        crumbled 
and 
        cremated 
and 
        created again 

I can 
        shapeshift 
For you

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Anoushka Panganamamula brings us inside the mind of a sculptor's creation.

Shapeshifter

Chloe Marriage

My father taught me the first thing I need to do is introduce myself. My name is Chloe Marriage, I am 11 years old, and I have had Cerebral Palsy forever and it won’t go away. But it will never stop me doing anything and showing people what I can do, NOT what I can’t do!

I have an amazing family and two brothers who are lovely most of the time. At school I love art in the classroom and trekking outside for sport. My daddy also loves cycling, and just over a year ago we bought a Hase Pino, which is a semi-recumbent tandem bike fitted with calliper pedals to help me cycle. I sit on the front and my daddy sits behind me and we have sing-song while we pedal. 

At the start of last year, my daddy met Karen Darke (adventurer, paralympic athlete, speaker, author, and contributor to KidSpirit) and I came up with a crazy idea of undertaking a Quest 79 Challenge in support of Karen. I wanted to help show that ordinary people can do extraordinary things by expanding their horizons at a personal level, which can knock on into their local communities, then potentially have a global effect.

Our aim, in keeping with Karen’s Quest 79 theme, was to cycle 79 miles from Bristol back to our home near Newbury, supported by my Uncle Ollie on his bike. Daddy and I rode on our tandem, raising money for the Spinal Injuries Association in the UK, where Karen is involved.

The date was set for the 22nd of August 2020, and we had to train; it was tiring but great fun, and I felt part of a team which made it easier. In truth I loved the training. We tested the bike, what we needed to eat, when we had to stop, and even how to go for a wee, which is not easy when you have Cerebral Palsy and can’t walk!

One of my other uncles lives in Melbourne, Australia, and wanted to be part of our challenge. Sadly, Melbourne was in lockdown because of COVID at the time of the event, and poor Uncle Mike had to do it on a turbo trainer. To make matters worse for him, he decided that, as I was on a tandem, he should do double the distance! Yes, he did 158 miles and stayed on his porch; we call it going nowhere fast! He raised money for Spinal Injuries Australia to help people where he lives.

I want to share with you how the event made me feel. In fact I made up the perfect word for it – “Scared-Excited.” We even changed the words to a famous Pointer Sisters song from “I’m so excited” to “I’m scared-e xcited,” which we sang as we pedalled. On the day of the big ride we had to get up really early, before the sun was awake, and drive to Bristol. Daddy packed me breakfast in a box and, as I ate it before we got going, told me that the day would be hard, that I would get tired and hungry, and that it may rain and we would be uncomfortable at times, but it was important to keep going, to never give up, as when we had done it no one could take it away from us, and we were raising money to help people who had spinal injuries.

We set off and once we got pedalling I was ok (well, for the first mile). Then the rain drops started to fall and it blimin’ old chucked it down. We hoped it was only a little bit, but NO, it was set for the next hour and we got drenched, so much so that puddles formed in my coat, but I was still happy. I could see daddy looking worried and he asked me if I was okay – I pointed up at the sky and shouted, “You will not defeat me rain.” I could see him smile and stop worrying about me and our spirits lifted as we laughed at the situation we were in but I knew it wouldn’t last forever. It made me feel like we were a team taking on hard times and winning. Just outside Bath, 20 miles in, we met my grandfather and cousin, who cycled with us for 10 miles along the towpath. It was special to have three generations of my family riding together, and the sun decided it would come out to shine on us. Our team was bigger for a while, so I was proud and it felt like we could pedal forever.

The day was not without incident, as just before lunch, having cycled down a very bumpy towpath by a canal for miles, which was uncomfortable, slow, and tiring, my Uncle Ollie was riding the tandem with me and went round a sharp corner. He was caught off balance and nearly tipped me off onto the tarmac, saving me at the last moment. It scared me out of my life and I had to have a little rest to compose myself before we started pedalling again. Then, just as we were stopping for lunch, it happened AGAIN; the tandem slipped on the gravel, nearly tipping me off, and Uncle Ollie hurt his back, but nothing that a lot of pasta at lunch could not sort out for me. Uncle’s Ollie’s wife is a physio and was on hand to help him feel better. It made me realise that things can go wrong quickly, and what you think and feel can change in an instant, but when you stop and think you can get things right in your head and make it work again. With pasta in my tummy, I was going to do this.

The second half of the ride was thankfully less eventful and more sunny and we pedalled with my Aunty Penny. Five miles from home we were cheered on by more family members, which gave me the boost I needed, and three miles from home I started singing a song that I made up. The words were simply, “I am proud of myself.” I was an 11-year-old girl with Cerebral Palsy and had just cycled 79 miles in a single day – lots of 11-year-old girls without Cerebral Palsy can’t do that! It’s something I will never forget and didn’t believe I could do before I tried. We raised over £7,000 and expanded the horizons of ourselves and others even as far away as Australia. This was my first adventure and I’m planning more, including a 1,000-mile ride from the southern tip of England to the northern tip of Scotland (Lands End to John O’Groats) with my brothers and Daddy when I am 16  .

I suggest that you challenge yourself and push beyond what you think is possible as you may surprise yourself, like I did. I learnt a lot about myself, like how things can make me feel, and how quickly that can change, but more importantly how you can make others feel; when it was raining and my Daddy was worried about me, I made him happy and stopped his worrying by showing him I was okay. That is a powerful gift.

This has given me a thirst for adventure and taught me I CAN do things that seem very difficult to start with. Get a good team and a good plan, and you will be surprised what you can do. I will now think bigger, as this is only the start of my adventures. I can’t wait to see where we go from here!

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Chloe Marriage shares how cycling 79 miles transformed her self-image.

My Quest 79 Challenge

What defines a life well-lived? How do we make every moment count? Why do we fear death? In this brave issue, KidSpirit contributors face eternal questions of mortality head on. 

A Long Sentence

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