If you had to switch lives with a fictional character for a week, who would you choose?

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Funny how the prompts of late seem to focus on villains and heroes, characters, fictional versus the non variety.  I would never speak for any of you, but this is strangely similar to other instances from the past.  Moments where it almost seemed as though attention was somehow focused upon me.  Not as the precursor to accolade.  Moreso evidence that change was in process and it was best for me to hear, see and feel it.  

If I am not present, then I am not here.  Thinking of a past transgression – mine or others – or looking too far ahead and getting way out over my skis.  If I am not present, then I could miss out on hints, suggestions and truths that wind and find their way into my purview. Offerings and gifts that are truly meant for my sustenance, benefit and life.  I am finding that if I just stay where I am, they surface and blanket me.  

We talk about our fellowship nearly each day, and once the subject of gratitude appeared.  I chose to cling to the idea that gratitude is an honest awareness of what you have.  Right here.  Right now.  Not what I am  going to have delivered by an overworked shipping agent, that promotion I sure as heck deserve and better get, the bucket list of things I just have to do and acquire to live a full life,  or wishing I did everything different all over again. 

Gratitude is knowing, appreciating and holding onto all that is part of you right now.  That simple act is not stagnant.  It is truly vibrant.  It lives.  It breathes.  And since I have decided to share in its atmosphere and breathe its life giving air, things happen. Thoughts come.  Connections are made. Life becomes real.  Love beyond any and all imagination is felt. 

Back to the prompt. 

Pretty much my entire life has been portrayed by a fictional character.  When we were growing up, my brother Glenn and I used to go by a secret identity.  We put a tremendous amount of thought aand effort into these clandestine monikers.  He became Nnelg.  Me?  Kram.  Brilliant, huh.  

Later in life, mostly due to appearance, attitude and demeanor, he morphed into Genghis and I, Attila.  The Hahns.  As you can tell, the whole pun thing is pretty much genetic.  It’s in our jeans.  

Perhaps my fictional characters were Kram Nhah and Attila the Hahn, two lost souls that never really knew who they were, choosing to live a life of fiction. For the most part, I have been engaged in that.  Far more than a week.  

Of late, I have become better acquainted with something and someone real.  His presence is invited and warmly welcomed.  And for that, he is most grateful. 

Meet Mark. 

Mark Hahn.