A few weeks ago a friend from work and I were chatting about the “injury at track level” announcements that are sometimes heard on the train. She had heard a few on her morning commute into work over the years and said they tended to increase this time of year. I didn’t realize it was a coded way of saying someone had jumped in front of the train to their death.
She mentioned that she knew someone who was actually on a train that was involved in such an incident. It made us feel sad, imaging the pain that would drive someone to do something so counter-intuitive to their (and all humanity’s) basic drive drive for survival. And then we felt such gratitude for our own lives — the condition of it and the people in it that kept us going.
I was admiring my string of pearls (senecio rowleyanus) today, watching how its tendrils continuously reach for the light. It made me think of how we humans do the same: we face dark times, but we grow by reaching for the light. And we blossom and grow some more. We grow. Isn’t that what truly living is all about?