Glimpsing

Last night I sat in the hot springs, and I spent a few minutes observing the people walking by. The people who passed were later in life and had many years behind them. I thought about their lives, tried to glimpse inside and imagine what might be there. The joys; the pains. Everyone's life is so full.

Most people have fallen in love. Most have had their hearts broken. Everyone who is married has had a wedding day, with flowers and parents and promises and hopes. And fights and arguments and frustrations. Everyone who has children has had the joy (and perhaps uncertainty) of discovering they would be having a baby, has gone through childbirth, has brought that baby home from the hospital, has sent them off to the first day of school, has sent them off to become adults (has or will). Many have had miscarriages or lost children, or felt the panic of worry even though everything turned out fine. Dreams and disappointments. Flowers and thorns. Contentment and angst.

This song makes me think of the depth and expanse of every ordinary life:

Alan Jackson, Remember When

To be honest, I cringe at the thought of how long and full life is. I recoil from the knowledge that everyone has a story that would break your heart. Each moment carries such meaning, and life is made up of so very many moments. I'm uncomfortable with the fact that this is all so real and vast.