i served a group of about 50 people last night that had just come from a young girls funeral down the street.
as i was putting through the last debit, i saw that the man was holding a little stone with a painted face on it. i made some mention that it was neat and he said,
“yes, the girl who passed away loved to paint rocks. this particular one was from when she was 12, but it was one of her many talents…and then she killed herself.”
i apologized and wished him a lovely evening. and felt so heavy.
i’m not going to delve into the complex topic of suicide, but it never fails to make me terribly sad that for whatever reason, someone didn’t want to be here anymore.
i think the times in my life that i’ve counted myself the luckiest is when i’ve briefly understood the brevity of life and that you get such a short time to walk around and love and feel rain and ride ferris wheels and eat brie and laugh and listen to bob dylan records.
it’s what’s made me travel so much. you only have one chance down here, so go.
this photo was taken in mozambique last may. a few mates and i were driving in from south africa and this was literally the middle of nowhere. there was a solo, dusty, square hut and in true african style, they had cold coca-cola. so we stopped.
i remember being there for no more than 15 minutes, but looking out over the blank, level landscape and feeling the loose grit beneath my sneakers. i was probably sweating and had to pee.
and i was so happy.
you always are when you know this time, this adventure will never come again. it’s what i try to bring more into my everyday life because none of right now, adventure-like or not, is ever going to come again.
looking at this photo gives me the confidence that if i suddenly wasn’t around tomorrow or next year, that there were times in my life that i couldn’t have done anything more to feel fully alive. that i did all i could.
today, i am so thankful to be here, to be in life.