Dear People,

As I stood in line earlier today in an uncharacteristically disorganized Starbucks, I started to think about you.

All of you.

How annoying and petty you can be on the one hand, and how truly amazing, unendingly compassionate and infinitely strong you can be on the other hand.

People (we) are fascinating.

They (we) can be mundane, brilliant, deep-thinking, stupid and wacky. All at once.

They (we) are capable of physical, emotional, spiritual, mental and human feats some of us might not even be able to imagine. And, yet sometimes, they (we) are as petty and silly and self-centered as can be.

They (we) see and are deeply affected by unspeakable tragedy (both the man-made and the Mother Nature-made kinds), heartache and destruction and then in the next moment complain about their donuts or coffee or a light drizzle outside.

They (we) complain about it being too hot (or cold) in our homes with our electricity and running water (which has too little pressure, too much pressure, is too hot, too cold, needs a filter, too much ice, not drinking enough….) and forget that most people have neither.

They (we) are capable of great compassion for strangers and people unknown to us, yet we forget to tell those we love that we love them and that we are sorry. And that they are forgiven.

They (we) pray to a god or to God with all their hearts…but forget the Golden Rule in the everyday.

Deep down, you (we) are so full of hope and honor. And of regret and frustration. It is all mixed-in and suppressed and over-expressed and dormant and active.

They (we) lose all perspective then wonder why no one else seems to have it.

They (we) feel it is never enough, until it becomes too much and then we long for the simple times when not enough was plenty.

They (we) confuse “want” with “need” and agonize over not having what we want. Because we really, really want it.

They (we) are masters at making complicated out of simple and then wondering why things can’t be or aren’t “like they used to be.”

They (we) get really confused and frustrated by technology that we don’t actually need but that we have come to not be able to live without.

They (we) spend all their time talking about how they don’t have enough time. Then they (we) are bored and things are too slow.

They (we) are so busy and always in a hurry. Then wonder why no one seems to have much time for them (us) anymore.

Some of them (us) will go out of their (our) way to save a stranger but forgot to call Mom on her birthday.

They (we) are hilarious and too serious. Funny and inappropriate. Genius and dumb as hell.

They (we) sometimes experience unexpected and unadulterated politeness and respect. Other times, the rudeness and disregard are staggering.

You may annoy some us on the surface, yet just below possess within you the most mind-blowing, inspirational, tragic or moving stories that we may or may not ever know.

They (we) are capable of so much. And of nothing. And they (we) act and react accordingly. Or totally out of proportion. Or both. Or neither. Because some of you (us) do nothing and react never.

They (we) are blood and flesh and bone. They (we) are deep souls and gut feelings and knowing voices. They (we) are also also magic and evil, light and dark, right and wrong. They (we) know everything but nothing. They (we) do too much and nothing at all.

They (we) are us. They are nothing like us. Yet they are exactly like us. In many ways, and in every way, and in no way.

Dear People,

I have no neat conclusion here:

You are many things and you are nothing.

Your story is important and unique, your story is just like everyone else’s.

I am nothing like you, and yet I am everything like you.

You amaze, amuse, move and inspire me. Sometimes.

You annoy, irk and push me. Sometimes.

You are me. Except when you are not.

Love (I try),