Contemplation

Lately I’ve been really contemplating the fragility of life. It’s been steadily increasing over the last several weeks, but was compounded first thing yesterday morning. As I arrived on campus, I stumbled on the still very new wreckage of a pedestrian/car accident. Two students, at least one of whom is 17 years old and attends the concurrent enrollment high school adjacent to my university, were struck by a vehicle driven by another student. The morning light was in his eyes, and they were in the crosswalk, but his speeding and the poor visibility made it impossible to avoid hitting them. One was thrown onto the windshield, completely shattering it, and the other was drug a short distance by the vehicle. Fortunately, it does not appear that it will end with a fatality. The driver was understandably completely distraught. That actually sounds almost insulting as it’s so petty compared to what I imagine to be the depth of his feeling. As he sat sobbing, he couldn’t process what had happened and was overwhelmed with the realization that one of the boys was a friend of his.

Ever since, I’ve been thinking constantly about these students and their families. I cannot fathom what they are feeling. Add to that the challenges of the Nielsen family, hurricane Ike, recent earthquakes in Indonesia, and a host of other things and I feel so emotionally invested in others that I can’t believe I do not know any of these people personally.

Perhaps it is motherhood which increases our capacity for empathy, or perhaps it’s just that we recognize that these other people are someone’s child, that makes it so easy to be genuinely concerned and involved in the challenges of others. Perhaps it’s that we have or have not experienced similar trials, are worried or stressed about something in our own lives, or are simply hormonal (definitely an option).

I feel so sheltered. My life has been spent in the Rocky Mountains. While we have faults, earthquakes large enough to be felt, let alone cause damage, have thus far been nearly unheard of. We don’t get blasted by tornadoes, or hurricanes, or tsunamis. I have never known true poverty, or homelessnes, or hunger. We are less impacted by economic crises here than many other parts of the country, and crime is of a completely different (usually less extreme) variety. My family has certainly had struggles of its own, but as I look at the world I cannot help but feel a huge sigh of relief for the lack of difficulties I face. And though this is not always the case, the difficulties I am spared have nothing to do with personal choice. How am I so lucky? And if the day comes when it IS my turn to face some of these seemingly insurmountable challenges, will I do it graciously and with so much faith as others do?

This recent (obsessive) awareness is having the effect of increasing my gratitude for every little moment. I am living in the present a little more. Hugging my daughter a little more frequent. Laughing now and studying later. Caring less about my frivolous material desires. Driving a little slower. Stressing a little less. Managing my time a little better.

You know what that has done for me? It’s let me taste a little bit of Heaven. Life is richer and more peaceful. I’m smiling more, accomplishing only the things that are worth it, and enjoying my life a great deal more than only a couple short weeks ago. I've even forgotten to dream of my gorgeous-but-not-realistically-attainable-in-this-lifetime shirt. I only hope the fruits of this will last. For tonight, Aeryn and I laughed, tickled, played, and ate ice cream for dinner. It may not be the most responsible, but no matter what, I can look back upon this day and be joyful. We have been happy. I am blessed.