The sky was overcast, dark, mottled and bruised.
It didn’t feel like a normal February Southern California Winter morning. It had rained only up to a few hours ago and a dampness seemed to cling to the wee morning hours like a wet pair of clothes.
“I can’t fucking believe them,” the bus driver shouted.
He had the hint of a foreign accent that had faded over the years and the grey hair swiveling around his spotted scalp betrayed his advanced age.
He had just parked the bus and was changing out from the graveyard shift. The new driver was standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him and nodding.
“They think they can do this to us! Did you see the latest posting?”
In all my early morning flights over the years, nothing had ever previously happened on my short commuter bus trip to the airport from the parking structure. From Lot C to the main Burbank airport it takes roughly 5-7 minutes. On good days I can leave my front door and be sitting at my gate in less than 45 minutes – that’s fucking unheard of for flying in LA. Gotta love the Burbank airport!
So the five us, who were sitting in the back of the bus at 6:00AM, had been jolted awake by this sudden outburst. It was an unexpected development to say the least.
“First they bump me to the worst shift! And now they want to take away my medical benefits? I can’t drive this bus without medical. They don’t pay me enough to cover that as well.” HIs hoarse, gravelly voice seemed to scratch with angst.
He stood at the top of the stairs huffing and puffing, glaring down at his replacement. You could tell the driver was at his breaking point. Rummaging through his stuff aggressively and muttering expletives under his breath.
The other passengers looked on nervously, their hands gripping the seat a little tighter, white knuckles showing. Wondering what to do… should they say something and offer condolences or stay quiet and keep to themselves.
But I wasn’t concerned. No… no, I wasn’t concerned in the least bit. I felt for him. What would it be like to be old and have no savings? It must be tough and scary. What if something happens to you and you have no family? Yeah, fear was the last thing on my mind…
Because all I could feel was compassion and sadness. I knew what it was like to have the carpet pulled out from underneath you.
It’s easy to get lost in the fray and forget how amazing it is simply to be alive.
Times like these remind me what a privileged life I lead. And it made me wonder, how often do I actually practice gratitude?
Because isn’t that the core issue here?
As I watched the bus driver act out his anger and frustration, I could relate. Not in the same sense of desperation, but under the veil of generality. That to live is to experience, to suffer is to grow and to feel is to be human… empathize… sympathize.
Things weren’t handed to me on a silver platter and I work harder than most (that’s just my humble opinion… haha), but I have savings. I have invested. If I lose my job (as has happened in the past), I can deal with it. I don’t have to worry about living from paycheck to paycheck. And I also have a substantial family support network in my local area.
What it all boils down to is I have options. But so many don’t.
I understand that my situation is not the norm. And with the recent Coronavirus pandemic, there will be so many more people struggling as the economy shifts underneath their feet. Something is ending, and change is permanent. A curtain has been lifted and the world forced to see that we all struggle with how delicate normal living can be. We all contend to negotiate the balance of life. And we all feel the fragility of the world around us, even though we often don’t like to admit it to ourselves.
And yet, our life doesn’t have to be such a cold and lonely place.
Because when we stop and breathe. When we focus and become present in the moment, everything becomes clear. Our senses heighten and we finally feel as we should be… free… alive… unburdened.
And then we can see that there is so much to be grateful for. We have shifted our mindset from what I want to what I have. And what I have, if even the smallest of items, relationships or values; can feel like the most abundant treasure in the world when our minds are sitting in the right place.
Because too often I live my life lost in the anxieties of tomorrow, while I ignore the blessings of today. Our lives are what we pay attention to. So isn’t it time we pay attention to what matters and leave the rest behind?
When I think back to the bus driver above, I’m grateful that he drove me from my parking lot to the airport terminal safely that cold and dreary morning. I’m grateful that he’s alive and well enough to perform his job. And I’m grateful that I was there to witness his emotional outburst. Because it reminds me of all that I have rather than all that I don’t.
And what I have… is enough.
-Q-FI
P.S. So how about you? How often to you practice gratitude?
First, I hope all’s well in So Cal and you and yours are doing fine amid the shelter in place order. Second, this is a standout article amid many other fine ones you’ve crafted.
Gratitude seems a bit of an under appreciated concept at times which is unfortunate. I’ve always tried to practice daily gratitude. I was born with an extremely rare, congenital bone disease and my legs were effectively backward. There really was no hope or reason that I would ever be able to walk, but, long story short, I ultimately was able to. Ever since then, I wake every morning saying “I am grateful I can walk.” This led to an early appreciation of gratitude for life in general. I’ve always believed that because I have food in my belly, a roof over my head and a coin in my pocket, I’m doing damn well relative to many. Anything over and above that is even more amazing. Just being alive today is good enough for me.
Thanks for the compliment Mr. Fate – for how much I enjoy reading your blog, that really means a lot to me.
Oh boy… this virus thing is crazy. My family is good so far, though my wife is a dental assistant and her office just got shut down for a month. So we’ll see if the lost income is temporary or becomes permanent – regardless, losing a big chunk of your cashflow is never a fun prospect. For me personally, my work acts like nothing is happening, so I’ve been plowing away each day with my normal workload from the home office. I think the people who are really “struggling” are ones like my wife. They go from working full time to doing nothing and start going stir crazy – and obviously the loss of pay stresses everyone out. It’s really just bizarre times we are living in and unfortunately I think the worst is still to come. But how about you in Washington – the numbers up there have been pretty wild too? I know you’re relatively remote, so hopefully that keeps you and your wife safe.
And man, each time I think you’ve been through enough, you throw another zinger out there. It’s crazy how much you’ve battled back from and I couldn’t agree more with your take on life.