I'm up at 5am each morning and out of the house by 5.30 to head to the yoga studio. As I drive I pass clusters of people huddled in the dark, shoulders turned in against the cold, waiting at bus stops for our crappy transit system to take them where they need to go.
Not a morning passes that I don't look at them and wonder what kind of job they're going to, how far they're going, and how many hours the commute by bus adds to their day. Not a morning passes that I don't think of the fact that I did nothing to earn the car that I'm driving, it was given to me. Not a morning passes that I don't think of my cushy job obtained, in part, by an education I didn't have to pay for.
Not a morning passes that I don't think of how it's just a blip of fate that I'm not the one waiting for a bus in the freezing cold at 5.30am and thank my lucky stars at how very, very lucky I am.
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