Have you ever seen a grain of sand and thought, “Wow, that is one piece of trillions in this world. It’s so small. It has traversed the earth through water and sand and been broken down. It has existed for billions of years while I’ve only lived for ten or twenty or thirty…”?
Then, do you worry about your next bill or meeting, or the next time you have to take out the garbage or wash the car? Do you think about old conversations and worry you haven’t said the right things? Or pictured future conversations you wish you were brave enough to have, but know that when the opportunity comes you will not be as eloquent as you imagined? Do you see a small hole in the front of your shirt, or spill some coffee on your pajamas and think, “Oh, my day is ruined”. Or, perhaps it doesn’t come to you in words. Perhaps something frustrates you and you feel angry all day. Everything becomes an irritant: there’s sun in your eyes, it’s too windy, my jeans are too tight, I hate the sound of Tiffany’s voice…
Then you remember that life goes on. When you die, that grain of sand will still be there. You may have been the only person to pick up that exact grain and look at it closely. Or maybe you were not. It may break down further until it is so small, the human eye cannot see it. It will drift back into the ocean and float past seaweed and fish and plastic waste. It will fly up in the air and get trapped on a bridge and a car will drive over it and it will stick to the tire It will travel to a home with a stone fence and a little gate. It will fall off the wheel and stick to a child’s shoe and they will run to the park where it will fall under many feet.
Eventually the bridge will collapse and the car will break down. The child will grow and live and then die. The seas will wash away the land and the fish will bloat and float to the surface and the sun will burn their scales. Their bones will sink to the sand below and some day the water will break those down, too.