Photo by Artem Beliaikin
We are in a sense a world, and when we come close to each other, we share in that world; each with our own aspirations and despairs and sometimes, something more than despair, like hope.
I am simply a passenger, trying to effect change here and there where I can. I don't know the worlds around me: what their thoughts are, their beliefs, their childhood, nothing.
I wonder about people, the ones I don’t know, the ones I give constant thought to, and the ones I think about on occasion. At no point has their life just stop moving. I have tormented myself worrying about what someone may think of me or some wrong I think I’ve committed in the wish to have it absolved; but, this is of course is a personal problem—my dilemma not theirs.
In a way, each world has survived a life much longer than mine; giving up a sample of their heart under pressing conditions, with ideas and opinions I have scarce touched upon.
We are going about our lives as best we know how, unaware of what another may be going through. At times my thoughts are really quite trivial and in the grand scheme of things the world hasn’t missed a beat to my confusion or hang ups over the people I’ve lost, the things I wish I could have undone…these are mine to cope with, and as great as it might be to imagine what someone would think, that I should hold them so dear, they will never know.
We have our own set of things that we are paying close attention too; my random thought really isn’t a bother or an incident, or instance, it almost doesn’t happen. I am a simple passenger. I can only hope that what we would have realized aligns itself with the same compassion that we inspire. I have to think that you (each world) are far more humble than me. Thank you for your gift.