Nothing reminds me of how small and insignificant I am in the universe like cutting through that interval between earth and space at 600 miles per hour. Plane travel is daunting. But it's not the 65,000 pounds of gravity defying steel or the 27,000 pounds of jet fuel that give me pause. It's the housing developments as far as my near sighted eyes see that look as if they are flies trapped in a great concrete web of streets and roads. They remind me how insanely populated the world is and what a teeny tiny speck of sand I am.
Then, when the plane lands and the wonder dissipates, I'm a self-important little snot again.
Yesterday, my plane was still taxi-ing to the gate when I decided I'd better check my phone for messages because my mother had probably left four or five messages by now to tell me she was leaving the house, driving on the freeway, parking in the garage and waiting at the gate with gifts and cookies and a friend or two that she couldn't wait to meet her lovely daughter and precious grandson. My little boy had never been to Michigan and my mother had a detailed agenda already mapped out.
Sure enough, the moment I turned it on, the phone was already ringing.
ME: Hi Mom. We're here but not de-boarding yet.
VOICE: Hallow, Mawhree? Dees ees Mawhree?
ME: Um.... yes. This is Mary
VOICE: Yoo not een beggege clem? Yoo need come to beggege clem.
ME: What? I think you have the wrong number.
VOICE: Yoo come to beggege clem. I wait to peek yoo up.
ME: Yeah, well, as much as I want to be peeked up --
VOICE: Yoo Muddah. She send me to peek you up.
ME: My mother what?
VOICE: Yoo come to beggege clem.
ME: I'm still on the plane.
VOICE: Dat ees wrong pless. Yoo come to beggege clem.
ME: Okay, but I'm still on the plane.
VOICE: Dat ees wrong pless.
ME: Yes, well, when they let me off, I'll --
VOICE: Come to beggege clem. Yoo Muddah send me to peek you up.
ME: Remind me to thank her.
Make that ALMOST nothing reminds me of how small and insignificant I am in the universe like cutting through that interval between earth and space at 600 miles per hour
2 comments:
Insignificance, is it a good or bad feeling, or is it a thought. Sometimes it's frustration. At other times it is comforting.
Almost nothing reminds me of how small and insignificant I am in the universe as war or watching the children in Africa suffering starvation and Aids or listening to George W. Bush wax on about how much good he and his cohorts in D.C. are doing for our country.
Warning: Rare political and somewhat social commentary. Don't get used to it.
Troy, the suffering of others does not make me feel insignificant at all. It hurts. It's tragic. But it does not make me feel insignificant.
I know in my heart that small as my efforts may seem in the overwhelming scheme of suffering in the world, I'm doing my part when and where I can. Helping one person find a job or putting one family into an apartment may seem insignifcant to a starving African family, but it's life changing to an American one. A thousand dollars here and fifty dollars there may not feed the world, but it feeds somebody.
My contributions may be small but they are consistent. I vote, open my wallet, write letters, solicit legislation, petition congress, talk to my legislators, seek financial assistance, use my gifts and talents every opportunity I get and pray (yes, I pray!) to help end the mistreatment and neglect of people in this and other countries.
Would everyone agree with the way contribute to society, my priorities and the causes I support? No. But I'm always doing SOMETHING and for that reason, the suffering of mankind does not make me feel insignifcant.
It does, however, frustrate me that small as my part is, if everyone else actively sought to do their small part either financially, legislatively, or physically, people like you would never have to feel insignificant.
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