I walked home from work today through a mostly-empty park. I was struck by the peacefulness and simplicity of the lake. That peace was disrupted a bit later as a couple drove up the isolated road. The windows of their minivan were closed but the ugliness of their screaming spilled out all over the neighborhood.
The driver slowed as he approached a stop sign. The female in the car had her door open, presumably to get out of the passenger seat once the minivan stopped.
With a big “WELL FUCK YOU” the driver make a right-hand turn from the center lane and they sped out of sight, obscenities blasting.
Where there are minivans, there are probably kids. I had this feeling of sadness for that couple. I thought about calling the police, but I know what a waste of time it would be.
I felt grateful that what I witnessed wasn’t anything like my life.
Today marks 20 years since I married my wife. My days are quiet and boring. There is no screaming there’s no crazy driving there’s no public scenes, no guns, drugs, police, hospitals or psychiatric holds. All THOSE people are dead; they burned themselves out completely decades ago.
There’s just quiet now.
Don’t under-estimate the power of quiet. Never underestimate the value of peaceful. You can’t buy peaceful when you don’t have it.