There are not enough pieces left to assemble anything useful, anything that resembles a memory. What is there is just enough to see myself long ago with dirty tears running down my face wondering how I got there.
It was a warm summer night, where along the edges the lights of the amusement park were just enough to see the ring of kids forming. The parts of the puzzle that show how I came to be there are missing. But the pieces labelled with Dana’s name are still as bright as ever. He was different. Probably brilliant and, for whatever reasons, not part of the group. And somehow—again, all the pieces of that part of the puzzle are missing—we’d been egged into fighting each other. It lasted less than a minute for me to lose the fight and my pride and in another minute the crowd had dispersed.
I contrast that with another group of local kids. During both last July’s flood and a second one that came exactly a year later, each brutally devastating to our small town and neighboring towns, those young people stood up and were counted on to help hundreds of neighbors. Every day they came back covered in sweat and mud and the unimaginable stink of urban flooding. They cleaned up, slept, ate and were ready for more the next morning. Their “fight” was not over in a minute!
I’m thankful for my time in that dusty circle with Dana to have learned clearly where I want to be in life. The choice is always before me: to join a circle taunting those in the middle or put on the muck boots and grab a shovel. I am grateful to have had so many inspiring examples of the latter in my life, courageous souls who, though I know they sometimes stumbled, also saw that the only way they could live life fully was as “neighbors.”
The choice I have—we all have—at this moment in history is to jump into the mess of this world and vote in November—and, despite Trump’s chilling admonitions last week—vote again in four years! And, of course, to vote for all our neighbors.
Again, I appreciate your sharing this as wide as your reach allows and doing what you are able to make a difference even when it feels like you are lost or alone, because we are not.
Still Learning To See 
John, thank you for some inspiring thoughts to start the day.
We’ve been watching the Olympics. It’s wonderful to watch the incredible feats these athletes accomplish along with a positive, cheering crowd. So far, this represents the good in people. I’m aching for that shared kindness and support within our own country.
Yes, a good example of how nations can work together, at least much of the time.
I am puzzled by the last blue photograph that looks like it was taken under water.
I IS underwater but the photo was made from a commercial flight at 20,000 feet coming over South Florida. You are seeing sand shoals and the little white speck is what is probably a very large motor boat.
Once again, I am touched by the clarity and simplicity of your words: we have a choice, a choice of how we respond to life and all its happenings. Thank you.