This morning I decided I’m giving up on the news. Every morning as I head into work, NPR keeps me company in the car. Like every morning, as I got in the car, I turned on the radio as I thought to myself, “Let’s see what bad shit is going on in the world today!” and I began listening to my negative passenger.
A man was talking as a translator droned on over his voice. He explained that God is his only hope and protector. He lives as a refugee on the side of a road. Every day he lives in fear of being kidnapped or killed. I listened to him intently as if he was telling me about his favorite ice cream flavor.
I put myself in his shoes for a moment. Or I tried to at least, but I realized that there’s no way I could even begin to imagine what his life is like. Does he wear shoes? Does he sleep on something or in something when he falls into a nightmare slumber? Does he eat every day or drink water? And on some level, it hurt just a little knowing that people really live like that. Every day.
And here I was previously, dreading going to work, as I navigated my car, while drinking coffee and smoking my cigarette. It doesn’t seem so bleak of a day anymore.
I flipped the radio off and watched the autumn leaves blow across the highway underneath a sky draped in clouds shadowed in various shades of gray. I decided right then… I’m going to have a good day.