If you’re reading this, thank you. I am honored by the gift of your eyes, your awareness, and your precious time.
Really, I want to thank you. I am grateful for the momentary intersection of your consciousness with these words. Human connection has a creative, transformative power, even if we might never meet in person. Of course, I hope that we do.
My late mother, Linda, used to urge me to “paint my own canvas” and to “be the artist of my own life.” With each breath or word or experience, I add a little paint and color, a little depth and texture. I have an opportunity to bring a little more beauty into the world. We all do. (Thank you for reading this and for helping me to keep mom’s memory alive.)
My late father, Harold, used to soothe me after failure, encouraging me to accept disappointment. “EE,” he’d say (his nickname for me, rhymes with “me”), “You know, you can’t change the weather.” Some things — most things — are out of our control. We don’t get far trying to run against reality. Sometimes all we can do it just let it be.
My parents were teachers; thanks for honoring them with your attention.
More than half a lifetime ago I learned the concept of Ubuntu, a southern African word roughly translated to mean “I am because you are.” My humanity is possible through you. We are people through our interrelatedness with others.
Your time now with this letter affords value to these words and to the love I intend to convey. By mentally receiving the messages on the page, and by allowing them -- even unwittingly -- into your world, you validate my hope that our interaction can make a positive difference.
If you’re reading this, thank you. Please paint your own life canvas in a way that speaks your own truth. And don’t expect that you can change the weather. My wish is that you will find a way to share your love with others, and by doing so, spread the promise of Ubuntu, watering the seeds of our souls.
I’m here if you need me.
Warmly,
Dean Solomon
Dean of the Frank Batten School of Leadership and Public Policy