A note on gratitude.

I run along from one residential area to the next. Through downtown, past the transit plaza, around the perimeter of campus. And back.

I run alone. No music, no cellphone, just me and my breath.

I pass many people on this Monday morning. I do not judge. I only observe. What right do I have to judge someone when all I know about them is what my two eyes take in as I jog on?

I see a woman muttering to herself about the end of days. I am grateful for my sound mind.

I see a man having difficulty navigating the curbs with his prosthetic leg. I am grateful for my sound body.

I see someone pushing a shopping cart containing all his worldly possessions. I am grateful for my home and that I don’t have to carry all that I own with me each day.

I see someone throw his sleeping off as the morning heat grows. I am grateful for my cool linens and the comfort of my bed.

I could look at all of these situations with pity or disgust.

But I choose to see compassionately.

I know nothing of the struggle of these people, the stories they could tell if someone would give them the opportunity.

Judging is easy. Our minds seek to do it by nature. We like to make assumptions and label things. It’s more comfortable that way. It takes effort to notice your mind making these judgements. It takes effort to witness life objectively.