Why are we here?

Which is another way of saying “what about me”?

So let's see. So I'll start by listing roles and attributes:
Artist, father of two teenagers, one daughter and one son, husband, breadwinner, mower of lawns, cooker of meals, buyer of horse feed for my daughter's 4 horses, buyer of feed for our three dogs, weed-whacker (just whacked some this morning growing between the kitchen and the compost heap), DBA guru for an academic medical center, seeker of beauty, seeker of truth, yoga practitioner (when I don't stay up late painting and I get my sorry ass out of bed early enough), a walker, a wanderer, a man of many masks, a light, a manifestation of life, a wave, a surfer on the big waves that have come my way from time to time, a stone containing the memory of the beginning. An INFP, so at an art opening when everyone else is huddled in groups facing the inside of the room, I'm the one actually looking at the artwork!
Yes, by myself, but I usually prefer the quietude.

Lets see, what else?

I'm different, well who isn't you might ask?

Well it's not like I can't function in the mainstream culture of our time as rich and varied as it appears to be. It's just that I feel a bit like I don't belong even though I can put on the appropriate mask and fake my way in. I also strongly suspect that I'm not alone. That there are many more of us out there and while we have found some niche in life, feel that some part of us is left behind in the process of fitting in.

My 18-year-old son was born with Fragile X syndrome and so is really different and he cannot adapt and fit in. Instead his environment must adapt around him. So I'm here for all that is different, awkward, seemingly without beauty and grace. I believe that there are no mistakes in the universe, only mistakes in judgment.
So why was I pulling weeds this morning?
Good question, it's an irony that I haven't quite figured out yet but some day I hope to garden weeds in a beautiful way.