I had to take my pants off in the shower
because I knew there'd be a pound of beach sand inside my rolled-up cuffs.
As I stared at the sand on the shower floor I wondered where that sand had come from?
Was that sand over there from somewhere different from that pile over there?
I felt small in the grand scheme of life and then I thought of another time I felt this way...
In NYC on the corner of 79th and Madison Avenue....
So many people walking by me, each with their own different story. Everyone is coming from somewhere and going somewhere else. Everything and everyone looked so busy, and even when I stopped to cross the street, this busy-ness moving around me kept mounting to an overwhelming feeling that my life, my world, is only one insanely small piece of this corner, this street, this city-world.
I glanced down at a piece of gum on the sidewalk and thought that person had a story, too. In fact, that very spot on the sidewalk had a story, I thought. Someone had walked on that piece of gum while breaking up with their girlfriend over the phone, someone was pregnant and didn't know it yet. Someone was wondering why they hadn't received that raise at work or how they were going to afford next month's rent.
For every occasion in that place, for every pile of sand I stand upon, there is an equal, counter-occasion somewhere else.
There's a family that's cozy and functional and warm and happy. There's another next door that's uncomfortable as a unit, dysfunctional, cold, miserable. Others are apart against their will - taken away for some reason or another.
Little fish Big pond.
Thankful for these humbling thoughts on a day that it is bittersweet as this
Thanksgiving Day is for me.
And all I can do is be aware of all that's right today and all that's not.
I ask the same of you. Read your internal compass on this day of Thanks.
Reflectively, Gratefully, and Warmly Yours,
~ L ~
