The Pacific slept. Well, it didn't exactly sleep but it certainly lived up to its peaceful name. So there we were at the Marina Saturday strolling and dreaming and resting while the same waters licking our feet swept people off of docks, toppled trees and threatened to close down Manhattan Island.
It's not too hard to understand that the oceans' waters touch all shores. Why, then, do we struggle with the notion that, like those waters, we touch each other. All of us all of the time. Your anger slaps me in the face with just as much force as the winds of Irene slapped the North Carolina islands. And your laughter warms my soul.
There is no specific you intended here. We are all the You.
And that, I suppose, is the hardest part to understand.