Letting Go (or: The Best Pizza in the World)

May 1, 2017 life

The world giveth,
and the world taketh away,
in ways both big and small.

It is filled
with random carelessness,
and random kindness,
exquisitely balanced,
if we are willing
to accept them both.

I strolled the park,
relaxing in the cool night air.

And along came a boy,
racing on his bike behind me,
warning me too late,
not able to avoid me.

Grazing past me,
his bike scraped across my wrist,
leaving a small red wound,
and an otherwise bare wrist.

Where were my treasured watch
(with a calculator and stopwatch built in!)
and the prayer beads
given to me in kindness,
blessed by a Buddhist teacher?

Scattered in the brush,
I found the remnants of both,
watch strap ripped beyond repair,
the prayer beads mostly gone.

The little pains of loss
were stronger than the stinging of my skin,
until, with some reflection,
I could simply let go
of blame and indignation,
and wanting what I no longer had.

I will never know who it was
who carelessly deprived me
of these two cherished things,
and, as I let them go,
I find that it’s okay.

And so, on a new day,
I am sitting in another park,
writing and relaxing,
on another beautiful night.

As I sit,
a woman approaches,
and, in a kindly, exotic voice,
asks if I would like her pizza,
which she could not finish.

Box in hand, I take it home,
to share it with my son.

Hot from the oven,
the smell of herbs and garlic
permeating the house,
I luxuriate
in what is, perhaps,

I will never know who it was
whose kindness
brought us this little feast,
or where the best pizza in the world
could be found again,
and, upon reflection,
that is okay,
as well!