Relativity

Listening to NPR. I haven't been glued to the media like this since 911. I woke up this morning in my safe, warm bed, astonished by the cacaphony of birds outside my window. I know where my sons are and that they are safe. I have electricity, food, and water. I have the freedom and the means to do whatever I feel like doing today. Well, within reason. And I'll probably head into the laundry room to spelunk through and begin to organize the mess in there. My wish for the Libyan people is that they will soon have the luxury of waking up to such a morning. And hear birds rather than gunfire. And experience a true appreciation for the mundane peace of a Saturday afternoon. I recognize that it is only human nature for me to gripe about near four dollar a gallon gas, my total lack of a love life, and the tendonitis that continues to plague my hands. While I am griping, I have more than half a tank of gas in both of my vehicles, I remain relentlessly optimistic, and I can still type, though with a dismal rate of wpm. Suffering, like all else, is relative.