small things

Lately I have been blown away by the smallness of almost everything. Me, for example. I'm a tiny, jelly-like crumb on the surface of a rocky thing. My movements are noticed by few, never mind my words, thoughts, actions. In the history of the world, my life lasts almost no time at all. Each of my days, good or bad, is even less. Never mind my good or bad moments. I'm less than one six billionth of the population of this planet. I'm also terribly fragile, living in a delicate balance of the narrow acceptable conditions for human life.

"Dost thou think thyself a puny form, when within thee the universe is folded?"

I love that quote.

To me, lately, there's sort of a fresh feeling to thinking that things are both insignificant and important at the same time. Some actions will go unnoticed, some will really matter, to me, or somebody. Countless things we can say or not say, do or not do, give or not give are small in size, cost and/or time. Yet, many of these make a big difference to individuals. I could sit here for hours listing and explaining examples. I'll just leave this one story, though, about how something small that turned my morning around earlier this week.

* * *

This morning I almost missed my bus. I was walking casually to the bus stop, under the impression that I had plenty of minutes to get there, when I saw the thing roar past, maybe 15 yards in front of me. I started to run, dropped something, picked it up, started to run again. When I got to the corner I saw that it was stopped down the block, and I kept running. I was frustrated. I was already going to be five minutes late, and this meant I was going to be 20 minutes late, at least. I didn't like this for a number of reasons. I even went so far as to swear, something I hardly ever do, especially out loud.

As I was pounding futilely down the sidewalk after the oblivious bus, a lady slowed down beside me in her shiny black SUV and offered to give me a ride a few blocks up to catch the bus. I know the rules about getting in cars with strangers, but I looked at her and her shiny vehicle, got in, and thanked her profusely. I was probably in the car with her for less than a minute. A couple of blocks down Broadway, the bus had to stop at a light. I ran out and got on it. In one quick, thoughtful stroke, she saved me at least 20 minutes, a lot of frustration, and at least a little discomfort at work.

* * *

I could go into the significance of the fact that this woman offered to do this for me, and that I accepted. In this example there are a lot of things that would have gotten in the way, starting with trust and potential danger for both of us, never mind her thinking of doing something for me, a total stranger on the side of the road, in the first place. But I'm not going to because I don't want to yammer on and on. I've just really been thinking on smallness of myself and of many good (and bad) deeds. And how they're also big. It's been making me feel small, a little sad, a little happy, and fairly peaceful.

And I also wanted to post the story about catching the bus, just because I was so glad about it.

"...For man can receive no greater gift than this, that he rejoice another's heart. I beg of God that ye will be bringers of joy, even as are the angels in Heaven."
-'Abdu'l-Bahá

And, good night. [good night...] [..goodnight... . . . ] [ good. . . .