By Miles Patrick Yohnke
© 2021 All Rights Reserved.
Make the time. Be completely engaged in your own existence. Not just each day; but each moment. Make it so that everything you do has a purpose--and that it's leading you on a path of serving others.
In the opening scene of the 1982 Richard Attenborough film "Gandhi," Mahatma Gandhi, a well-to-do lawyer, wants to travel in "1st Class" in South Africa. But he can't. He is an Indian, not white, and they kick him off the train.
That was the real start for the proper path Gandhi would take from that moment on. He would work for the rights of Indian people, all people. He would lose this idea of an entitled life that he was leading up until then. This "1st class idea." ME ME ME. He was ignorant (definition is - destitute of knowledge or education). Gandhi's own existence was a work in progress. You can keep going through your life ignorant or you can really partake and "awaken."
I found myself on the morning of February 22, 2019, at 6 a.m. cramming in as much personal development material as I could before returning to the hospital to visit my mom. One of the things I did was watch the 92-minute film "Won't You Be My Neighbor?"
How I was ignorant to this film, and I was ignorant to the life of Fred Rogers. I knew only of his existence as portrayed by actor Eddie Murphy from Saturday Night Live and that Fred Roger's existence was a joke. His life did not matter.
I'm grateful I finally grew the balls to watch "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" Right from the opening scene you know you are in for something truly special.
For people who are kind, they'll love it. For those who have misplaced their kindness, it will reboot their being. For those who are not kind, it can steer them onto the right path. Fred Rogers' life was very similar in how Mahatma Gandhi transformed his being. One of a non-entitled existence. Both were tireless daily workers creating compassion with dignity.
I have had the great privilege of reading Mother Teresa's diaries. Each day and each entry were about her questioning her own existence. She fought depression daily. What she was depressed about was all the good that society was telling her she was doing. She was seeing people live a lie. She was witnessing greed. Possessions. War. No peace. Fred Rogers, near his end, was questioning his purpose. Did it mean anything? He was deeply troubled by the events of 9/11.
In Fred Rogers' neighbourhood was the number "143." In Fred Rogers' life everything, EVERYTHING led somewhere. It had a purpose. What was the meaning of 143? One letter: "I," four letters: "LOVE," three letters: "YOU." I LOVE YOU!
The above photograph, captured by the joyous and dynamic Jenn Diehl was taken on Saturday, September 9, 2017. That location, my handmade sign, this article and most of my writings are not much different from the people mentioned above, nor the frustration felt.
There were many people who came to the aid of my mother during her 32-month battle with bladder cancer. On Thursday February 21, 2019, my mother was set to have yet another surgery. She signed off on the paperwork and was wheeled into the OR. Then came news of a terrible accident and the many people coming into the hospital were in a life-or-death situation. Mother's surgery was postponed to the next day at 5 p.m. Therefore, my 86-year-old mother had to go another day without almost any food as she waited and stayed prepped for her surgery. Ready to go.
Friday, February 22, 2019, and now 5 p.m. There we were, Mom and I, just outside of the operating theatre when I overheard that the person before her had just died on the table.
Now mother goes in for her ninth surgery. Two hours passed before I saw my beautiful Mom again. The bullying of her abusive, alcoholic father and the tragic death of her husband when she was 36 - nothing could stop the resolve in my mother to see things through.
My mother's only concern after her surgery was my six-mile walk through the toughest neighbourhood that Friday night. Not to mention the -20-degree temperature.
For me, that time also is the work. Every moment is work. You're "awoken."
The famous inventor Mr. Orville Olm got upset at his wife once when she was trying to be kind. She had offered me a ride home from the same hospital the year before.
He shouted: "Miles is working on his way home - he'll see the world like only he can--and he will write about it--and bring clarity to our lives."
I wrote a poem titled: "Do You Need A Secure Place?" about overcoming sexual abuse. We can allow girls/women to be sexually violated or perhaps we can gain personal development to stop it. We can do nothing for those who have been and just let them struggle without our support. We make the choice.
Some years ago, I received a letter from Justine Kyomuhendo who is making a great difference in her homeland of Uganda and beyond. She wrote to tell me that my article: "Mission Possible" made a difference in her being. She finished her letter to me with her life's mantra: "Don't let the world change you if you have the power to change it."
When Justine Kyomuhendo was nearing her 40th birthday on April 14, 2019, I reached out to her. Earlier in the week, I told her that my father had likely thought about April 12, 1969, and him turning 40. In the early hours of October 17, 1968, he was tragically killed in a potash mine accident. He never turned 40. He'll be 39 forever.
The key in life -- any life -- is to really live each moment.
I'm not sad with regards to my dad. He lived those 39 years fully engaged. I would be sad if he had lived a different life. A lazy life. A life where you place yourself before others.
The next morning, Saturday February 23, 2019, I walked those six miles back to the hospital. It was even colder than the night before. It was really blowing out. "Measurable" many would say. Many would find any excuse not to try. Not to venture out.
The following day, Sunday, February 24th would mark 34 years since my 20-year-old cousin, Brenda Gerein, was killed in a head-on car accident. I would walk in Brenda's honour in those frigid -34 temperatures to visit my mother.
Each step I took had Brenda Gerein's memory found in it. It was also a walk pondering how can I reach others that are dead, though no accident has occurred.
Sometime has now passed since my beautiful Mother succumbed to cancer. She left behind a son who has his hand out to the world.
Will you be my neighbor?
R.I.P. (Rest In Peace) Bridget Rose Yohnke
R.I.P. (Rest In Peace) Francis Lewis Yohnke
R.I.P. (Rest In Peace) Brenda Gerein
R.I.P. (Rest In Peace) Orville Olm