Melancholia

On my way to the station tonight I noticed the jacaranda tree in the gardens near Flagstaff Station. It was just so big and so damn mauve and beautiful and I thought, how can we all just walk past and keep going without it changing us completely? Why don't we just all stop and stare in amazement at this enormous mauve tree and fall down and worship God right there on the hard warm concrete?

Today on the way to work on the train, I had that overwhelming feeling of love for everyone in my train carriage again. It was like I could look at everyone and see how beautiful they were. Seriously, you'd think I was stoned but no. I think I was just getting a glimpse of how God feels when he looks at us, and how we are all in this life thing together.

Then tonight, when I was sitting waiting for the 6:40 to Sydenham (running 8 minutes late as usual) a man went past, talking to himself. He was so skinny, so obviously homeless. I wonder when he last got a hug by someone who really gave a toss. He stared at the ground, looked nobody in the eye. I thought, why don't I buy him a meal, as he walked off into the distance and the girl next to me told her boyfriend about how she owns 30 pairs of shoes - two blue, but only one yellow pair.

If I really wanted to worship God I could have worshipped him in that man instead of in the tree but I don't have enough courage yet to do that sort of thing. I find it easier to hug a tree than to hug a homeless man. But I would find it easier to hug a homeless man than a girl who owns 30 pairs of shoes.

My heart is so soft. My heart is so hard. God must have long-range vision.