I used to live in Oregon. Worked hard, smoked, drank, slept, tried to stay out of trouble, and I enjoyed and savored every moment I had. Recently I’ve had this recurring thought of getting hit by a truck and not having enjoyed myself up to such a fateful minute so I try not to lose sight of that while I wander around.
Having traveled a small bit I’ve never felt so close to that truck until now. I realize there are literally thousands of other ways people live, different foods, customs, cultures, and ways of life I have no idea about. So much more to know and see and no time to just go and be.
It’s humbling and exciting to know that I’m one of billions of other bugs on this planet but entertwined somehow because when I see how some people live I feel strangley connected, familiar and comfortable though I don’t know them or anything about how they exist.
The perception I have about different people and their cultures is all designed solely by my own experiences so it’s impossible for me to say I understand how other people live.
But when I see this boat and wonder how many different directions my life would have taken had I been born in Vietnam, I feel like it could have it happened either way and in the back of my head I’d still be thinking about that truck.