Like a news feed, I looked up from my desk to see a man riding his bike, trailing a blue banner that read, “Trump Pence America First Again.” A woman was following him from behind. Moments later beyond that I saw a hawk smoothing the sky, only air beneath.

I despair of the segments of society who appear to want others to make things right for them in whatever way they think they need. I resist the same impulse in myself: to export my own sense of being enough. Our perception of ourselves is shaped in many ways. At least one of them comes from parents. “You need someone like me to tell you what to do and keep you safe.”

The parental impulse frequently comes from love. Sometimes it comes from fear, resentment or some other dark urge. Our sense of dependency is real at a young age. Still, maturity comes with age, but sometimes age comes alone.

The danger is not that we are inadequate in ourselves or that we need someone else to turn our pumpkins into chariots. We are the ones who limit ourselves or believe those who would. We are the ones that we’ve been waiting for, all these years. And that’s the scary part. For now.

Danger is only the perception: WE are the reality. You and I. And I. And you.