milk and fruit and the little girl in the shopping cart...

For some time, I have been at a small impasse in my life, debating how to find a deeper sense of fulfillment in my life as a filmmaker, and as an artist in general. I have never felt confined to just one type of media, which I feel has allowed me to explore new horizons. But the content and the direction--the roadmap, if you will--of where I thought I was headed no longer made any sense, and as expected, my art began to suffer. The art of creation turned tiresome, and quite mechanical at times. There really was no purpose, other than to keep doing what I had always been doing for the last 20 years of my life. 

While I explored new opportunities this past summer, it wasn't until I found myself in the aisle at Albertson's grocery store, that my life really came into focus. There I was standing across from a little girl who had just obviously undergone chemotherapy. She was pale, her figure skeletal, and I found myself staring as she incessantly scratched away at a 12-inch scar on her chest. And then it happened: She looked up, and we made eye contact, and it was as if I had been transported into some Wordsworthian landscape, staring into the eyes of my very own solitary reaper. 

She did what only a young girl her age could do, or even knew what to do, for that matter. She smiled at me, and I remembered my own children at home, all the joy that would greet me when I pulled into the driveway. My daughter who would run out to the car, jump into my arms, and ask, "Daddy! Did you get me my juice boxes?" And then my son, who would greet me at the door in his green Pumas, trying to say "Dad," but it would really only sound like "Dah!"

As I pushed my cart alongside her and her parents, I returned the smile, and headed to the checkout stand. I took the scenic route home, and decided at that moment, that I would wholeheartedly dedicate my life, my art, everything I do, to one goal, to one purpose: Promoting and preserving the belief that every child should be afforded the opportunity to live a healthy and happy life.

And to think, all I went to the store for was a gallon of milk and some fruit for the next morning. Life works in mysterious ways, and I am beginning to finally find purpose. Amen.