I saw the Moon and the Moon saw me......

Recently on one hot night in Cuba, I was walking in Havana down a cobblestone street that led to the ocean. On that night the Super Moon was hovering what seemed like only inches above the water. I felt small in such a backdrop, the tiniest of creations on the planet. Feeling small and unimportant gave me a sense of freedom. I felt safe, but knew that the water could rise and take me away in a second, that I would be powerless against a rising tide. I got an earworm, too- the song from the musical "Carousel"- you know the one, that Billy Bigelow sang to Julie- "we're two little people, you and I, and we don't count at all." I heard that song first when I was small, and now, in Havana, small again, it came to me under the Super Moon that night. And maybe the song didn't really mean what I thought about next, but....nevertheless.... Accepting what "is"- when we're small it's easier. There is only so much we can affect. What I cannot change, what I cannot influence, what I have no control over, should not be on my mind at all. Worrying about what I cannot control or change is an earworm of another kind, a thief in the dark night, carving pathways in my brain that are driving to defeat me daily. If the waters rise, if the sun bears down, I'd better just get out of the way.

Ubuntu and Gore Vidal

Desmond Tutu once explained that Africans have a thing called ubuntu. "We believe that a person is a person through other persons. That my humanity is caught up, bound up, inextricably, with yours. When I dehumanize you, I dehumanize myself. The solitary human being is a contradiction in terms. Therefore you seek to work for the common good because your humanity comes into its own in community, in belonging." There is always room at the top. We are here to make each other happy, to lift each other up. To make the world a better place. To cheer each other on, hoping for the greatest success for the other. On the other hand, there's that famous Gore Vidal saying....'whenever a friend succeeds, a little part of me dies.' I think I might live somewhere in the middle.