Regardless of our urge to assert independence, our lives are palimpsests of those before us and we are for those to come. Excepting, perhaps the ironic irony of the monk seeking enlightenment to help all of us in his solitary state.

As palimpsests, while taking on the intelligence of an Einstein, the passion of a Mother Teresa, we likewise are inscribed with Hitler, and all those destructive before us.

Are we mindful of our inscriptions? Once in repartee with an experienced, devoted Father of the cloth, I sarcastically challenged, “What do you fear”, he nimbly, and aptly replied “My only fear is that my words or deeds will stray someone away from God” – he was keenly aware of his role as palimpsest.

As Robert Frost’s well known poem ends:

Be mindful of your role as palimpsest and take the road less traveled, if not for you, for those to come.

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