Up on the Rooftop

No big expeditions into LA for me this week.  I'm still on the task of feeling unburdened and at peace.  So mostly I just found quiet time.

I took a blanket with me up to the roof last night and laid down under the full moon to think, or, actually, to try not to think, but I thought anyway.  First off, about how that beautiful soft golden moonlight was really just sunlight bouncing back from far around the globe.  It felt good up there, on the roof in the city, with horns and sirens and music and people screaming and laughing down on the streets in the background, just lying there, being calm and wondering.

A part of me felt like I was young again, on those nights in August when my mom would say to us, "Let's drag the sleeping bags out and watch the meteor showers!"  And we would.  But then, a part of me felt like I was me, here, as I am, lying on the roof of an apartment building thinking about various small aspects of my life.  And I did.

A huge change in my day to day is driving more.  And in driving more, I encounter more homeless, or, in any case, hungry people, or, sometimes, who even knows.  At one of my stoplights, there seems to be a very full rotating beggar schedule.  I see a different person on that corner each day and each hour of those days, so I see a lot of begging. 

And I am familiar now with the schedule, and have been so tempted to give something to everyone but haven't.  But the other day, I guess it was the right day for me to give.  I saw a new guy I hadn't encountered yet who had a sign that said "just hungry" and that spoke to me and I dug around in my bag and gave him the fruits and nuts bar I had been saving.  And he seemed really grateful and his eyes were kind.  

It's never enough, but I guess we do what we can.  That's always been a tricky one for me about the city.  The homeless and needy.  Because my first instinct is to give.  Then to be sad.  Then to be so thankful.  But you've got to pick and choose, I think, and so I do, and here and there I find ways to share.  I can't just give my whole life away to everyone else.  But if I can quell a little bit of suffering, by all means I will try.

Another change is the math.  I faced, again, a grueling numbers day at work this week.  But this time I can say with conviction that I actually felt good about it, and, dare I say, almost excited, because I took my time to understand it so well the last time.  So I wasn't as overwhelmed.  But I wish I was just a natural.  That I do wish.

There is one thing I can say about the me who exists now.  I have become quite the master of staying calm and carrying on, where, before, I was more often than not having a breakdown and calling my mom.  I am making strides.  That's a nice thing to reflect on under the moon on a blanket on the roof.

So, basically, that was my expedition of the week.  I laid on the roof and thought of these little things.  And of all the small wonders of living.  And how I want to continue, steadily, to grow.  And to be amazed by things, always.  Like that I no longer fear numbers.  And that the moonlight is actually sunshine.