i am a girl who delights in mornings alone. who rises with the sun and slips into a robe just to sit and stew over the hours ahead. i've learned to eat in restaurants by myself on my lunch break, next to men in business suits and construction workers with dirt on their knees. i am comfortable in an empty room, echoing house, and silent car.
but it takes a village to love. to share, spread, sprinkle the seeds.
driving to work today, i thought about the people around me. their commute. their coffee in drink wells, lipsticks in pocketbooks. was the woman stopped at the red light next to me wearing a new blouse? did she have children and if so, did it hurt her to leave them this morning? is she fighting with her husband or did she just kiss him goodbye? i turned my radio off and just watched. as mothers, sisters, husbands, uncles and boyfriends flew by me.
and i thought about all the chances, all the blessed opportunities, i have to love each of them.
to be kind. to smile. to let someone cut in front of me at the coffee counter. to consider the little burdens, boulders, and mountains they are forging through. to not question if the man on the corner is really hurting. that's one of the hardest parts, the not questioning.
it takes almost nothing for me to sit alone. to sink into a tub at the end of a long day and play my favorite songs in the comfort of my office.
but love means community. and from big cities to tiny hometowns, there's a village waiting.