Like anyone, I'm sure, there are things that keep me up at night. Sometimes I sit here in this room, the window to the balcony open, my blinds letting the soft metropolitan glow in through the space where one of them fell; long into the night, on nights like this one, I sit here and contemplate pointless things like how small my apartment is compared to the vast geography of the planet, or how small my focus is at times when juxtaposed with the breadth of life's spectrum.
I read a letter from a friend in China before I went to bed; I was greatly encouraged, as I always am when I read such letters about necessary work being done, and brave steps out into the wide world; all this, and it's being done by one of my friends. I think to myself, "I have walked among giants." Truly.
And I sit here in my room and contemplate how contained my life is at times, how...banal. It's odd; I don't feel this way most days; in fact sometimes I'm quite content. But, you see, you spend enough of your life following the trails of giants, and you begin to feel the effects of the fallen trees and leveled mountains. You start to see heaven and wonder if you're reaching out to it or if it's just floating unusually low today, almost within reach, and you look around at the trail and wonder if you had anything at all to do with the affected landscape.
Down the street, the California Transportation Authority is working on expanding the freeway. It's 12:47AM and usually the beeping of the heavy equipment and dinosaur like noises of metal scraping rock and the like would trouble me. But tonight, they float through my one blind space on a breeze like a lullaby. I may be the only person thinking about these things right now, and perhaps tomorrow I will regret posting these thoughts in a public place. But for now, I'm just glad I'm not the only one awake at this time of night.