The likelihood of meeting the person you’re destined to be with is a statistical anomaly. That’s if you believe it’s possible. Be that as it may, my parents almost never met.

In the 1970s when the manufacturing industry was thriving, and before health and safety regulations were what they are today, the man my mother loved, spent his summers working in a plant in Detroit.

It was good money for a black kid at the time, but the air he breathed working there was toxic. He developed a then-fatal lung disease called sarcoidosis.

This would not be the last time my mother would lose the love of her life to the American working environment.

Scientists today say sitting is the new smoking. It’s something we all do without the long-term health risks fully understood.

Most of us sit all day staring at screens. Will we look back at our current day jobs through the same lens we look at the inhumane working conditions of the past?

My guess? We definitely will.

After Donald’s funeral my mom drove for days with no destination. It was the worst thing she had ever been through, up to that point.

Unbeknownst to her then, it would also be the catalyst to propel her into the world she knows today.

Even more important, for the purpose of our story, I owe my existence to this seemingly horrible event.

There’s an old fable, of the wise man:

A boy really wanted a bike and finally got one.
The people in his town thought it was great.
Reserving judgement, the wise man said, ‘we’ll see’.
The boy broke his arm riding that bike.
The villagers then thought it was bad.
The wise man said, ‘we’ll see’.
Then war came.
Because of the broken arm, he didn’t have to go.
The townspeople changed their tune again.
They thought his arm breaking turned out to be a good thing.
The wise man simply said, we’ll see…

These stories reflect the importance of non-judgement and non-attachment to any particular outcome. It’s best to stay here in the present moment.

We never know where it will take us.