Mike Murray
in my own words
32 ft/sec/sec
Aim High
And Winter Came
Aunt Betty
Christmas Bells
Counting Christmases
Day's End
Earning Their Wings
Footprints in the Sand
Full Ciircle
George, Dewey & Amber
George Maciuszko
I Am Not
In Sarah's Arms
Inner Voice
Irish Eyes
It's For Them
Just Do Something
More Good Than Bad
More Than I Deserve
Mother's Little Helper
My Hero, My Wife
Nobody's Fool
Not One Puff
Nothing Like a Mother
Out of Africa
Reason to Believe
Riding in Cars
Scraping By
Second Best
Secret Wish
She's the One
(Shoestring) Salvation
Small Things
Snowprints
So Long, Hal
Still, They Sing
Take Care of You
The Gift of Comfort
This Giving Season
This Healing Season
Uncommonly Good Man
What About Bob?
When She Goes
I Am Not
--by Mike Murray

I am not my gender.  My masculinity does not begin to define me.  If I had been born female instead of male I would still be -- at my core -- the same person.

I am not my race.  Whether my ancestors hailed from Ireland, Italy, and Germany (as they did) or from places in India, Africa, or South America, I would still be me.

I am not the economic stratum from which I started.  Had I been introduced to life from a place of more advantage or from one of less, it would ultimately have counted for little.

I am not my geography.  I was born and raised in the city of Cleveland.  But, had I started out in the suburb of Berea (where I live now) -- or from an entirely different region of the country -- it would not have changed who I am.

I am not the things I cannot control.  I am the things I can.

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Years ago my dad had me read a book entitled "You are What You Eat."  I can certainly appreciate the wisdom contained in that tome (that good nutrition is important, and that what we consume has profound physiological repercussions).

Still, I beg to differ.  We are how we act.  More than anything else, our actions -- and our inactions -- define us.

We cannot control our gender, our race, or the family into which we are born.  We have no say in the natural abilities we start out with:  the relative numbers of fast- and slow-twitch fibers that comprise our muscles, and that go a long way toward establishing our basic speed, power, and endurance.  (And that also have a lot to do with determining whether we will soar like LeBron James on the basketball court or be the last one picked on the playground.)

We have no part in establishing our innate intelligence.  Sure, more diligence with respect to study generally yields better academic results.  But does anyone really doubt that some are born better equipped for the rigors of the classroom?   Or that others start out with better singing voices?  Or greater aptitudes for things mechanical?

No, we have no say in the relative levels of talent, intelligence, or financial status with which we begin life.  All we control is our actions.

We are essentially, it seems to me, the sum total of the choices we make.  The things we decide to do; the things we decide to refrain from doing.  We are the ways in which we behave.  We are the things we can control; we are not the things we cannot.

For my part, I can't say I'm proud of all the decisions I've made over the years.  I've taken some bad actions, ones born of ignorance, self interest, and so on.  I've also failed to act at times, usually as a consequence of indifference or fear.  Sometimes simple inertia caused me to continue acting badly -- or kept me from acting at all.

In taking stock of my life, my mind turns to a building at Baldwin-Wallace College that preceded Kamm Hall as the home of business-administration study.  Ott Hall, I think it was called.  What I remember clearly about the no-longer-standing structure was the dedication to its benefactor:  "She has done what she could."

I find myself wondering:  Will I be able to make that same claim one day?   Will those who survive me be able to say as much about me?  Half as much?

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I am not the degree of success I achieve; I am the level of effort I expend.  I am not what I accomplish;  I am how hard I try.

I am not the absolute total of what I contribute (in dollars and time) to assist the needy; I am the amount of help I provide relative to what I have to give.

I am not the level of importance I achieve in others' eyes; I am the person I have to face in the mirror each day.

I am not as wonderful as my dog seems to think I am; I am so much less than that.

I am not perfect.  I am not even close.  But I am trying to be a little better each day than I was the one before.

Copyright ©  2005 Michael F. Murray  --  All rights reserved.

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