I am a father. Today, that is my world, and my sole focus. One of rainbows, unicorns, and sparkles in every nook. I look back on my life often. One of Legos & bikes, reading the entire set of World Book Encyclopedia from the high shag living room, macramé plant hangers over our split level cookie cutter stairwell, and a Grandma that made owls out of pinecones – knit hats out of Pepsi cans. I am fifty-one years old, and have lived a fantastically full life, and yet – I am deathly afraid of my words, and aside from being the best dad I can be to my two wonderkids, I incessantly question my purpose. The world today is not the place of naïve innocence of the 70’s & 80’s, and one that I do not relish in handing to my children. I feel guilty. I am complicit, and I am complacent in failing to enact any real, measurable change toward a sustainable future for humanity. It is not my sole responsibility by any measure, and yet it weighs heavy on my heart.