we left florida in the rain. it was a tad bit bumpy as we climbed and i was grateful to come out above the clouds into a clear sky with soft early morning color. as we flew at this altitude i could see glimpses of what was below us, spaces quickly filled in by soft puffy clouds blocking the view. i strained to see what terrain we were flying over, curious if i could pick out landmarks and know a little bit more about where we were, wondering about people living in those tiny dots of towns and cities and farmland below the clouds that we were flying above. it was easy to forget that it was raining down there.
i feel like life is like that. it has become more telling to me in these times of divisiveness. we are each at a different altitude…we have different starting points – our backgrounds, our education, our financial status, our various orientations…the starting point list is lengthy; all things combine to make us who we are and all things weave us a different starting point. at any given moment we are at yet another one; life is fluid like that. we live above our own clouds – or, at times, in them – either way our view blocked.
here above my clouds – for my clouds are different than yours – my questions are these: how curious are we about the people who are not at the same place as us? how much do we strain to see what might not be where we are? how much do we want to know, to empathize? how much do we forget what is happening someplace else, for someone else, in the places where it is more difficult to see through the clouds? how engrossed are we only in our narrow bandwidth of sky? can we see the experience of others? can we try?
we can either think it is a soft-morning-sky kind of day for everyone or we can actually realize that it’s raining down there.