I do not agree with much of the song, but I sure do agree with, “you may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”
The day was my day off.  I was pleased when it was raining at the start of the day.  I was a bit miffed when the sun came out around mid-day, but I was determined to follow through on my commitment.   I watched a movie.
It was based on a true story about an obscure Indian fellow who was a genius at maths.  A genius on the level of Newton.  He was invited to Cambridge and despite the opposition and prejudice of some, became a Fellow of the Royal Society.
What caused me to think about the line of John Lennon’s song was there was a guy at Cambridge who was brilliant that went off to war (the first world war).  It turned out he did not die but it had me thinking how wasteful war so often is.
I do think that sometimes war is necessary to stop brutish behaviour that will not be dissuaded from a course of action by any other means.
This guy was a nobody from a nobody family.  Brilliance to me can spring up in the most unexpected places.  I think of Edison - one of eight kids.  From obscurity a bright light (pun unintended) shines.
Yet in war people are often a means to a despot’s ends.  So much potential is lost in the pursuit of often destructive gain. 
To me brilliance is not just a matter of the acknowledgement of academia.  Often brilliance is doing something well.  Maybe loving someone well or improving the lives of others well.  All are flawed but flaws need not define.  To me it is not how I start that counts, but how I finish.  I can work towards what is right and good and maybe flaws are obvious, but so too are motives.
That is one of the reasons I have a problem with the wastefulness of war.  The potential of a multitude of good lies unrealized.  I am a great believer in obeying those who have the rule over me (when the commands do not infringe upon what I am told not to do).  Yet there are commands of some I will follow that are ill-conceived commands.
This is where the dreaming comes in.  I am looking forward to the day when war is a thing of the past.  When lives are not laid to waste needlessly.  When the potential of life is not a despot’s plaything.
That train is pulling into the station soon.

Yesterday I wrote about vulnerability.  What I talked about I did so in a general sense.  Today I am mentioning what I have seen.
As most know we run a market a few times a month in which items are sold at incredibly reasonable prices.  All proceeds go to our food pantry.  The comment that speaks loudest to me was from someone who purchased a tent and said, “now I won’t have to sleep in my car.”
That to me sums up what I am seeing.  Up to, and including the lower middle class is experiencing vulnerability like never before.  Prices of electricity, food, renting and houses have gone through the roof, and what I am seeing is a class of people that cannot now keep up with the increases.  I am seeing cars which suggest affluence parked in the car park and occupants availing themselves of affordable food pantry items.
I personally feel I will see and am seeing, a creeping acknowledgement of vulnerability.  It is said the rich will get richer and the poor poorer.  I cannot dispute that, as it is what I am seeing.
To me all vulnerable need a voice.  Often, they cannot speak for themselves, or if they do their voices are drowned out by uncaring affluent who it seems look out for themselves at the cost of all others.
Fortunately that is not all I see and many are coming to the aid of others.  Unfortunately there is something called “compassion fatigue” which is becoming more and more real as the sheer volume of need overwhelms.
This is where I believe my role matters.  No matter the state of play, I do believe I can exhibit care.  Not an unthinking care but a strategic care.  Helping in a way that maximizes good for others.
I personally know I cannot solve everyone’s problems, but I can care about what is in front of me.  My way of operating is to treat others the way I would want to be treated.  Often it is easier said than done, but often too it is done.  I know I need help to achieve any good and lasting thing.  Yet that is what I aspire to.
There will always be needs and I will do what I can.  To me people matter more than things and I derive the greatest satisfaction by improving the lot of others.  After all what goes around comes around.  It is not my motivation but I have found when I am there for others in their time of need, they tend to be there for me too.   

Lately the word “vulnerable” has loomed large in my thinking.  When that happens, I like to look into the word and explore the concept.
It is from the Latin “vulnus” which means wound and was first used in English in the early 17th century.  These days it refers to a couple of things. “exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally:” “(of a person) in need of special care, support, or protection because of age, disability, or risk of abuse or neglect:”
I reckon the best I can do is to maintain a realistic self-assessment.  It is good ,right, and proper I think to derive satisfaction from what I do.  Doing the best I can matters.  Having a realistic sense of self-worth matters.  Yet if the tumour taught me anything is that all I have and all I am, can be gone in an instant.  I was wheeled in one way and came out another.
It occurs to me that so much of what I do is to lessen vulnerability.  I take out insurance to lessen my vulnerability to unexpected events.  I get a car to lessen my vulnerability to isolation.  I eat healthy to lessen my vulnerability to disease.  To me I do all this rightly so.  Yet it remains a fact that all I have and all I do could be gone in an instant.  What I do shores up it does not guarantee.
I feel self-worth is a good thing but to me it is a good thing gone bad if I exalt myself and act as if I am above fallibility.  I know I had no control over arriving here or where I am.  I reckon I would be foolish to think I can influence events beyond the grave.  My thoughts and idea can influence, but I as a person cannot.  In my thinking it is the role of all here to influence the lives of others (hopefully for good)
It may look like some have it all together while others are vulnerable and need my help.  Yet all really are vulnerable.  Maybe some do not know it and some do not admit it. But if history teaches us one thing is that we all come and go.  My light may shine brightly for a time but the batteries will run out (but thankfully when these ones run out, I get another lot that will never run out).
It may sound like an oxymoron but vulnerability is a firm foundation.  I am not master of the universe.  I need to get over it.