You are an adult.

You would never chastise a child for his errors.  You would never mindlessly sabotage his future.  You would never force him to relive his past horrors, day upon day, upon day.   You would never compare him in cruelty - filling his ear with whispers of shortcomings, of failures, of limitations.  You would never remind him of all which appears to be beyond his grasp.  You would never tell him that he is ugly, that he is scarred, that he is incapable, that he is unlovable.

You would never tell a child to forgo the pursuit of a dream for the comfort of a predictability.  You would never tell a child to remain small, that those around him may remain comfortable.  You would never tell a child that his needs are secondary, that his ideas lack worth, that his very soul is flawed.

You would never tell a child to settle.

You would never tell a child to suffer.

You would never.  You would never.  You would never.

Korean Airlines was crashing planes at an alarming rate.

In specific to South Korean Air Flight 801, Malcolm Gladwell’s book suggests that the culprit was neither faulty aircraft nor dangerous conditions.  He suggests that the Korean culture so deeply instilled deference to authority that crew members were simply unable to question the decisions of the captain.  He suggests that the culprit was culture itself.  Flight recorders reflect that crew members – well aware of impending disaster - could offer the captain nothing beyond hints until it was too late.

It strikes this writer as ironic, really.  Societal authority is quick to reject a new thought as dangerous brainwashing when a new thought is the remedy for the dangerous brainwashing imposed by societal authority.   You see, we’ve been brainwashed since we arrived.  And each of us is lulled into quietly going down with the plane.

And that’s a problem.

He was my first dog.  We met at an adoption fair.  The room was full of people and dogs on that beautiful Saturday afternoon and the ensuing scene can be found in any sappy romance movie.  Our eyes met across the tumult and he stood upright.  Dragging the two bags of sand designed to minimize his enthusiastic spirit, he walked to my chair and, as would become a tradition in following years, he placed his chin on my knee and locked his eyes on mine.

And in that moment, I knew I had been chosen.  We were best friends for well over a decade.  His name was Ahab.

He was a family treasure.  He would travel to my childhood home with me, go to my dying Mother's chair and lift her hand with his nose, placing it on his head.  And this brought her such joy.

Her first question was always, "Is Ahab coming with you?"  And so it was that Ahab became a grandchild.

It's the question posed most often to spiritualists: Is healing always possible?  And the answer is yes.

But beware: This particular yes might not be the one you had hoped for.

You see, while you might believe that the path to healed finances should lead you to a windfall or a promotion, the path to authentic healing may lead you through a bankruptcy instead.

And while you might believe that the path to a healed relationship should lead you to a marriage or a reconciliation, the path to authentic healing may lead you through a separation instead.

And while you might believe that the path to a healed vehicle should lead you to medicine or miracle, the path to authentic healing may lead you through death instead.