“Non-violence leads to the highest ethics, which is the goal of all evolution.  Until we stop harming all other living beings, we are still savages.”

—  Thomas Alva Edison

We live in a violent world.  There is no escaping it.  I am not talking only about physical violence — the chance of being randomly selected for murder or mayhem.  I also refer to the violent way we use language to hurt and gossip, the way we consume more than we replace, the way we navigate through our world as though it belongs only to us.  Now I think that most people who visit my blog are of a kind and gentle sort.  We like to think that we leave only a small trail behind us as we walk.  We like to think that we clean up our messes and don’t mark our path with muddy footprints.  We like to think that we care for our mother, the Earth, and all of her inhabitants.  We like to think that we are building a legacy worth leaving to our grandchildren’s children.

I have mentioned before that “transformation” was my word for 2011, and that I have decided to own it as I move ahead into 2012 and beyond.  I love the way that transforming something is more than simply changing it.  It speaks of rebirth and renewal of the things we do and say.  It is a powerful word that challenges us to do more than simply turn away from a problem.  When we transform, we can take something less than worthy of leaving behind us and liberate its beauty.  This is how I would like to walk through my world.

Now that 2012 is with us, a new word has come to the forefront for me:  ”legacy.”  I once thought that legacies were for old folks to think about; but now that I have reached the age I once saw as old, I realize that a legacy is the sum total of our life’s work.  My father is now ninety  years old.   We talk each day, and he often reminisces about the life he has led.  I talk to him about the intangible gifts he has given me — gifts parceled out over my lifetime that define the man I call “Dad” and have helped to shape my own sense of identity.  This is his legacy.  It is the part of him that will remain.

As 2012 unfolds, I try to ask myself what the legacy is that will remain when I am gone.  What I am thinking today is that building a legacy requires more than simply being alive.  It requires the courage to face the violence we live with rather than simply turning away.  It requires being the one who picks up the person who has been hurt and tending to his wounds.  It requires being the voice of kindness and reconciliation in a world where words often are weapons.  It requires a sense of gratitude for all we consume and a sense of responsibility to reclaim and renew rather than to discard and waste.  What will our legacy be?  Can we transform the violence into something worth leaving to our children?