Yesterday was the anniversary of the Taliban retaking the Afghan capital. Even though I am a bleeding heart liberal, that episode in American politics left a really bad taste in my mouth, considering the promises we made to our allies over there. It’s hard to think of other people’s pain when consumed with your own petty worries. The care and compassion we once carried seems to have dwindled with each passing year. Inside the house I get more and more self-absorbed with my own “whoa is me feelings”. That I forget to go outside and see the world painted with a broader brush.
Sitting in the shade of the late morning sun, it’s easy to forget about my own worries. To watch the clouds thousands of feet above my head. Seemingly worrying about nothing but existing and just being there. Over in the fig bush/tree I hear the squirrel neighbors fussing at their mockingbird neighbors about some minor detail in their neighborhood rules agreement. It reminds me a little about myself and the selfishness I often place on my caring. To truly understand how life works one has to think beyond self. If we’d all recognize that we are just as interconnected as we are different. Then the problems that we see as so massive wouldn’t be problems anymore.