I wasn't really thinking about this, or trying to figure it out; it just occurred to me the other day:
The theme of my life is communication.
Everything boils down to that.
Weird.
12/26/09
12/22/09
christmas
I had planned to take our recycling to the dump this morning before work, because it was my last chance to get it out of the apartment before hosting holiday folks.
I take our recycling there because my landlord doesn't provide us with a recycle bin (and if he did, people would put garbage in it anyway). The recycling center is about 10 minutes away, and would have involved a 25-minute round-trip... which (given that I was dragging my feet this morning) was time I didn't have; I would be at least 10 minutes late for work.
But it was my last chance to do it, so I gritted my teeth and lugged the heavy [loudly clanking] slippery plastic bags down the steep back staircase, gripped the whole mess painfully in one hand so I could reach the back door handle, and stepped out onto the brilliant morning sunlight.
Obscuring my view was a garbage truck, also very late on its rounds (they usually come around 6:30 am), and standing just behind the truck was a cheery man who said, "Good morning, ma'am! Is that your garbage? No? Recycling? OK!" And he whisked the bags out of my hands and within seconds they were gone; my workday was left intact, my car saved extra miles, my brain free of the stress created by rushing and being late... and I felt a sudden happy Scrooge-like awakening to the simple pleasure of the profound gratefulness one feels when being selflessly assisted by a generous fellow being, and to the wonder of happy accident, and to the joyful fullness of the season. And I sat in my car and thanked the Universe for everything I could think of that I'm thankful for.
It took awhile. I was almost late for work.
I wish everyone in the world such wonderful gifts this Christmas!
I take our recycling there because my landlord doesn't provide us with a recycle bin (and if he did, people would put garbage in it anyway). The recycling center is about 10 minutes away, and would have involved a 25-minute round-trip... which (given that I was dragging my feet this morning) was time I didn't have; I would be at least 10 minutes late for work.
But it was my last chance to do it, so I gritted my teeth and lugged the heavy [loudly clanking] slippery plastic bags down the steep back staircase, gripped the whole mess painfully in one hand so I could reach the back door handle, and stepped out onto the brilliant morning sunlight.
Obscuring my view was a garbage truck, also very late on its rounds (they usually come around 6:30 am), and standing just behind the truck was a cheery man who said, "Good morning, ma'am! Is that your garbage? No? Recycling? OK!" And he whisked the bags out of my hands and within seconds they were gone; my workday was left intact, my car saved extra miles, my brain free of the stress created by rushing and being late... and I felt a sudden happy Scrooge-like awakening to the simple pleasure of the profound gratefulness one feels when being selflessly assisted by a generous fellow being, and to the wonder of happy accident, and to the joyful fullness of the season. And I sat in my car and thanked the Universe for everything I could think of that I'm thankful for.
It took awhile. I was almost late for work.
I wish everyone in the world such wonderful gifts this Christmas!
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