Lessons from a rainy Monday in a laundromat with a latte that is getting cold...
No one knows. No one knows that my heart is broken or how this dreadful place is a welcomed distraction or that the world feels as though it should pause right now but instead, it goes on. I sink heavy into this seat, I make small talk with others who are here and yet, no one knows.
And truth is, neither do I. Neither do you. We can't possibly know what all the people we pass amid our ordinary routines are carrying. We don't fully know how fresh their grief is, what worries are keeping them up at night, how stressful life feels right now, or what wound their anger can be traced back to. And it sure feels like a call to be more kind and gentle. To not assume. To make more room for error. To throw grace in heaping measures. Because we just don't know.
No one wants to be “here.” No one wants to be in this awful laundromat. Find me one who does. I don't believe it. No one wants to be sitting in grief. Or standing at a graveside. Or at the end of a phone that never rings. Or holding a box of pictures because that's all you have left. There are lots of here's that no one wants to be and yet, here we are, living and loving and losing. No matter how much I hate it, it was worth it and I'd still choose to be “here” if it means experiencing the loving part again.
On a lighter note, people in laundromats are really friendly and kind. Maybe because we all feel sorry for each other.
Meanwhile, Sharon over there in the whole left corner seemingly has her whole life together. She has this systematic approach to this whole laundromat thing that makes me think she is killing it in all areas of her life. She brings every hanger in her closet, 2 racks to hang all her clothes on, and even hangs bags over her clothes like they just came from the dry cleaner. I feel that I have failed in every area just by watching her, as I stuff my clothes into garbage bags and pat myself on the back because at least they are clean.
The takeaway? Don't compare yourself to Sharon. She doesn't have it all together. No one does. She just happens to be well-practiced at this laundromat thing.