Weddings and Funerals

The people fill the stores like herds of sheep. Consumers, needers, wanters, abusers of products and things. Let them, if you will, spend their hard earned money contributing to the never-ending landfill that has become the world. Landfills and lakes and oceans full of waste and forgotten uses. But trash is not all we are comprised of, no, trash is just what we create. Trash is not what creates us.

The preachers stand on soapboxes and shout about God, Jesus, Satan, and anyone else. They speak in tongues and in microphones and go ignored by pedestrians passing by to work, to spend, to find something. Anything. Anything at all. Will they ever find God at this crosswalk?

The lovers kiss on the street as if no one else is around. Maybe they’re the only two people who exist on the planet. Maybe they’re blocking the sidewalk and creating unnecessary anger in the hearts of the unloved and rushed.

Isn’t it bizarre that the two easiest actions in the world are to create life and to destroy it?

In a single moment, an act of love can bring an entire existence to genesis. An existence that will go on to do great or horrible or mediocre things. An existence that may be short or long or somewhere in between.

In a single moment, an act of hate can take an entire existence away. But what for? This place is already full of trash, what’s another human being to you? Why do you bother?

Isn’t it divine that despite all the bullshit and terror and sorrow,  love still flourishes where you water it?

The people carry on with their plans and their sorrows. They love and they hate and they create more of each other and then destroy one another.

We hold hands with our loved ones and express our gratitude. To each other we promise to provide and fulfill, to make this strange thing we do worth every sadness and heartbreak.

Weddings and funerals bring us together.

You never know what someone else is thinking. People talk to you like you’re stupid, or they give you too much credit.

Isn’t it sad? Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it magical? It feels like cherry blossoms and cinnamon. Like a headache and a late bill. It feels like panic and serenity.

The people walk the streets everyday. Places to go and people to see. Journeys to flow and souls to be.

I walk under the sun, then again under lights. All I can think is that it’s bizarre this life we live everyday, but all I can know is that I’m blessed to be living it.

The people fill the world and they will never stop filling it, whether it be with more people or more trash. The people fill this world but our souls are what carries it.