Each morning as I walk or drive for around ten minutes to go to my meditation class, there are countless stories to witness on the street.
Here’s the two I witnessed today:
A man was standing with his cart containing buckets of pickles. That is what he would be selling whole day, to make a living. Here he was, standing in a corner, serving pickle in a small bag. He then called out to the trash collector to come, so he could have his breakfast. Such beautiful thing. Most of us don’t do philanthropy because we feel we ourselves don’t have enough. But it is only in giving, that we receive the most. You do not have to empty your bank accounts. A small act of care each day, is more than enough. If someone who makes his living selling pickles can do it, what excuse do you and I have?
Another woman was brooming the road, with the broom taylor made for thick surfaces. It is unlike the one that we use in our homes. It’s streaks are thicker, which makes it easier to remove dust from there. As this woman was brooming the road, I noticed a strange thing: that I could not observe dust on the road. Yet, as she broomed, the dust became prominent in every movement. That was a beautiful lesson: around how the deepest things are not visible. It is only through tough scratching that they surface. So are the things in our lives. Our deepest pains are buried behind us cracking jokes, being on time, being addicted to work, etc. Only when a deeper pain comes that it brings all that is within – to the forefront. A wonderful reminder of how we pain brings the best in us.
That said, there is a third story as well – story of you and I – walking on the roads, streets, malls, etc. We get the stories that we see. And we become them.