There are so many fears in life: Those all too familiar fears from the past; present fears, some being sudden and intense, while other not so sudden and nagging; and the fears of the future, which we only hold a faint realization of, as they are not yet before us.

Those future fears, though faint as they may appear, often surprise us as having the strongest influence upon us. It is what causes worry and depression; and like a hot iron forged within the intense heat of burning coals ...brand us with marks of the very character of our beings.

The fear of the unknown is often diagnosed as the worst. The past cannot be changed. The present never remains the present, but the future always lies ahead ...and it contains the lies of whatever the unknown can conjure up.

What can be done to avoid being seared with the mark that burns within us ...penetrating that which protects our fragile exterior, while getting under our skin, and destroying the layers of our actual inner being? We need our skin ...it is what allows us to feel. And what allows us to feel is unquestionably one of the greatest things going for us. But what we feel ultimately, is not with our senses, but is rather a result of what lies beneath.

What happens if what lies beneath us is a lie, in itself? And don't we need to look beyond ourselves to really see what is beneath? Yes, this is where the unknown becomes known. This is where fear can penetrate the fog, and allow us to see the light that frees us.

It is the light that gives us clear vision, so we can see beyond fear ...to contentment, and dare I say, even the comfort of a shared joy.

There is a place where all fears meet: past, present, and future. Those fears meld all into one. But all the tenses of fear ...and senses of it, can be disspelled by simply trimming our lamps, and having enough oil to light our way.

Sadly, we often feel we just can't move on! It is the past fears that drag on and on, haunting us ...even in our subconscience. But even within the haunting experience, we can be renewed. This is the experience I had ...in my dream.

It was a different sort of dream, though it began with a common recurring theme. It involved a fear I commonly had years ago, from lack of preparation. Obviously, it is still lingering!

In my dream, a report was due. I had not even begun my report ...and it was already due! My friend, Pierre, handed me his report to look at. It was entitled, "Friendship." I was overwhelmed by the dedication and effort put into it. He must have put hours upon hours of work into it. I imagined the long days ...and weeks of tireless effort, striving towards not merely achieving a "good grade," but producing something that had great depth and meaning, beyond the skin.

During this precise moment of my dream, it was not just the fear of not personally being prepared. That fear was replaced by something other than fear ...by the turning of a page.

No longer was I overcome by my individual shortcomings, but by the accomplishment of one whose depth of friendship I had not fully realized.

The first half dozen pages were photocopies of a road. That road passed the delicate outstretched arms of a brilliant redbud. That road passed a concrete wall, with the rich aroma of deep purple lilacs bordering on the other side. That road passed a friendly old dog, sleeping within the cool comfortable shade of a birch tree. That road passed the home of my parents; a road my friend and I walked many a times, filled with meaningful conversation. At the time, I hadn't realized how meaningful ...until now, as I read Pierre's dedication, a testimony to our friendship.

At this moment, I was overcome with so many emotions. One of those emotions was regret, a common condition of life itself, that we live our life without full realization of what has always been there ...what is there now!

My next reaction was my own sadness, generated from the realization of my own shortcomings. I immediately began to write this, my own report of how we often overlook the greatest aspects of life.

I decided to use a favorite photograph for the cover of my own report. At this moment, the photograph took on an even deeper meaning. My mind traveled quickly into the past, even beyond my own lifetime. I traveled beyond my own realm of experiences, to feelings of past generations. Through this sudden new insight and perspective, I now felt I had a unique grasp of what they must have experienced.

The photograph was mostly of a beautiful birch tree, set out near the rock's edge, overlooking the shimmering waters. Millions upon millions of flashing watery prisms, eventually soften, fading to the horizon. My mind began to wander in two separate directions, both of which were so enrapturing, I felt regret that I could not travel in both directions at the same time.

In one direction, I felt linked with a past that kept me bound to this land, this nation I call "home." I looked to the statuesque birch tree, always one of my favorites. Delving into the past, I recalled how it had also been a favorite to the Indians. I imagined the preparation, and the hours of dedicated work put into the step-by-step precise craftmanship necessary to build the birchbark canoe.

In reality, I could not even dream of its construction, but I was dreaming ...and at this moment, I "was" the Indian. Throughout my winter's hunting, I had kept an eye out for just the right birch tree ...one that would provide maximum surface for a canoe. And I finally found the ideal tree. The family shared my excitement! My wife began preparing the cedar wood that needed to be soaked several days in hot water for the ribs of the canoe. My son had collected spruce roots. My daughter had collected spruce gum, now adding some fat to the mixture to boil over a fire. I worked hard, as did the entire family, until sundown. We were all exhausted. We didn't have to gather together for the evening meal ...we were together all day. But, I have to admit, mealtime was the best part: We relaxed together, we ate together, and we laughed together. We reflected upon the day, and we appreciated what we had. It wasn't much, but the much we did have ...was each other.

As I again return to the photo of the birch tree, my mind takes me in another direction, out over the shimmering waters, fading to the horizon. Upon close inspection of the photo, "to the horizon" reveals a structure reaching above the rich blues and greens; beyond the shimmering lights, flashing off the waves of Lake Michigan, yet still well within the expansive waters. And all conceived and constructed within a century's time ...that towering landmark, the Mackinaw Bridge. Considering the commitment, dedication, and sacrifice put into its construction, no doubt it was nicknamed the "Mighty Mac." Yet, so much is taken for granted, and most of the time little thought is associated with that sort of thing. Today, most would probably assume the "Mighty Mac" to be a new entree among a long list of McDonald's burgers.