Do something that matters.

I had a conversation with a friend yesterday about where we place all the tragedy in the world. How do we walk around in a normal, fortunate life when the planet is filled with horrors that can be discovered within seconds of awakening? Everyday seems to bring something new. We can be grateful that we can text and click any amount scrounged together and pray it will go to someone who will put it to good use. But the aftershocks of the heart--how do we live with those?

In my brief stint on this planet, it's always been the helplessness that gets me and so far, I have only come to this: do something that matters for or in the name of someone or some cause, however big or small. It's likely the wars won't stop, the bodies will continue to pile up in Japan, and protestors around the world will have to take up their task for one more day. But, a dollar just might feed several small bellies, a phone call might save a life, a listening ear might provide some release for a grieving soul, and a letter might be the latest in thousands that propels someone with power into real action. It's a risk and a gamble, but the alternative seems so disrespectful to those bearing the brunt of the tragedies. In a world that defies logic, what other choice is there?

The country mice visit the city.

The country mice decided on a city outing. Thing One loves the big city. Her eyes start to sparkle and her walk becomes a little strut and she starts to hum and sing and soak up the culture. We went to Chicago and crammed in as much as possible, especially when considering your natural state is that of a slug. This meant up and out by 8:00, back twelve hours later, and asleep by 9:00 in order to repeat this routine 2 more times.

Winona is a beautiful place to live, but it was fun to see a different side of life. Trains and taxis and buses and subways and lines and street musicians and fashion beyond tennis shoes and jeans and sculptures and languages not understood and performance art and a river dyed green for St. Patrick's Day and dog carriers nicer than any purse I've owned and serious sky scrapers. It was a visual extravaganza and choosing a focal point was difficult.

The rhythmn was different, invigorating , and yet another reminder that not everyone lives or acts or thinks like me. What a relief.