Roy, every story untold is a rose bud that has failed to open. Every life is a story, that must be told. A wild rose does not care if anyone sees it. It blooms, because it is life manifesting, and life must be expressed in physical terms. In it’s self, life is self centered, it does for the sake of self. There is no one life that is more sacred or more deserving than the other. There is no one story more important than another. every single life is unique, and is self expressed.

   Because one fails to see the rose in the forest, does that mean the rose has no meaning, no purpose, no story? Without every single grain of sand on the beach, there would be no beach. Every grain is important. Every grain supports the other. Every one of your lives is important, to whom? To the one that it matters most, the one who is alive.

   Every one of you is a rose waiting to be discovered, waiting to be appreciated. When you express yourselves, you give meaning to others. Your story touches all that comes in contact with it, as a passer by, would stop and admire or take in the fragrance of the rose. He can’t help but feel something. As a rose growing wild in the forest may be expressing life, but it has yet to give meaning to its life, until it has be observed and appreciated by another.

   Your life is about giving meaning and purpose to another. Every life that you encounter adds to the story of your own life. Your creator not having been recognized by another, was made mute. I existed, but had no purpose or definition. Your lives are likewise mute until recognized by another.

   You have a responsibility to tell your story, to get it out there, so that others would benefit by it. Your lives may be a sole/soul journey, but they give inspiration and definition to others. Every story untold is a rose bud that failed to open. You see yourselves through the lives of those you touch, whether it is the beggar on the street, the serial killer on the news, or a well know humanitarian. All stories touch someone and have value.

   From a simple expression of "I AM," to a 500 page personal biography, each of you have a duty to get your story out there. You must tell it to anyone who would listen, until you finally reach the one who has been waiting to hear it. In your experience Roy, you write for yourself, to express yourself, and though millions of readers may see your words, there may be only one the hears what you have to say. That is the one the story was written for. He has been waiting to hear from you, he has bee searching. He will recognize the story, because it will be about him, he will finally be recognized, you will validate his existence. Your story will tell him that he is alive.

   When you stop to smell the roses, it is, the recognition that the rose has been waiting for, and your recognition has given purpose. As I struggled to receive recognition, I created you, that you may glorify me and give my existence meaning. All that there was, became all (all of you) that is, in a relationship that is intimate and relative. You are no less important or worthy than I. You are me, looking back at myself.

In every lasting love, Joseth