Compassion

I have the worst name recognition--my mind sometimes a complete blank when I see a familiar face and try to pin the name to it. Though I may not remember a name, I do remember everything that is said. I will recall their quirks and the conversations we've shared, all the small details. Years can pass and I can still remember their words even if their name can't find a home on my tongue. I've always wondered why that is, but now I'm thinking it's the voice and details that fill up the space in my mind, leaving no room for a name. But I do always appreciate when someone adds my name to their hello, as if some rope was dropped from the sky. I've been looking at the sky a lot these days, searching for a sense of grounding, a need for gravity, a sure thing. I've been like a fog--some mist or a scent. I haven't felt solid. My life is rearranging itself--an earthquake of sorts--and I feel like an impostor pinning on a face of normalcy. And to think of all those nameless faces I have assumed nothing unordinary about, I feel a loss for understanding. There is so much that goes unnoticed. And I want to notice these tremors of our lives. I want to be a source of compassion--though the sources and details of our lives may differ, there is nothing at all different about the emotions we feel. And maybe that fact is what I need right now to find my own ground. I think we all feel lonely--I know I do. But maybe instead of focusing on our own state we should recognize all those in the world who share what we are feeling, and then the fog will lift and we'll be clear.