Relative Something

I’m not convinced that it matters whether or not I know that angry Democrats rebel against Obama’s tax-cut deal with Republicans. Or that Google delays netbook plans for Chrome OS to mid 2011. How about my awareness of the US appeals court ruling that the Food and Drug Administration can only regulate “e-cigarettes” as tobacco products and not as drugs, and thus cannot block their import? There were 55 people listed in the local obituaries for yesterday, and I didn’t know a single one of them. I could hold a door open for an elderly man in a public place and have no idea that he was a survivor of the attack on Pearl Harbor. (If he was 18 when it happened, he’d be 87 years-old now.) I can interact with an employee at work and not have a clue they had been involved in a domestic dispute the night before. I have walked past people who are experiencing inner despair and not paused to notice.

Then, when I am all alone in the darkness, I sense it all. It’s as if there is a time lag and when I stop long enough to free my attentions from the distractions of the day, it all catches up. Energy doesn’t vanish, it is transferred from one form to another.

With luck, I overcome the urge to be overwhelmed with grief for the drama of our human foibles, and I come to rest in the simple solution of feeling love for all those who need it. Love is what it is all about.