At a coffee shop the other morning, I watched a man repeatedly shuffle papers in a notebook and dial his phone then snap it shut with a grimace.
Despair. I was watching despair.
Someone he knew approached and asked the man if he was all right.
"I have to find some work. Today. I have to find work today."
A story tumbled out, one of a man willing and ready to work but unable to find a job. Mentioning his wife and children, the man's eyes welled and his voice shook.
This morning I edited an article about the relationship between the rising cost of health insurance and poverty. 62% of bankruptcies relate to health care costs. Of that 62%, more than 70% have insurance coverage. Inadequate to be sure, but coverage. Insurance rates are rising at more than five times the rate of inflation.
At this moment, I am well. I have everything I truly need and most of what I want. The sun is shining on my little house, my doggie is snoring beside me, and I am headed to another full day of work.
Rumi's blossoms of blessings are falling all around me, and I am grateful.