Tonight…

I’m sprawled out on the couch, workday done, finished my exercises at the gym, soaking in the smooth jazz playing in the background, candles lit, letting my mind wander over the day, and taking in all my tiny treasures around me.

A tangle of furniture, flashes of fine art, stacks of vinyl from my dad, family faces frozen in portraits, guitars, plants, glassware that catches the light, oddball trinkets — a patchwork of my life, really.

There were years we scraped by, counting pennies whose luster had long since faded, and stretching meals…you know, slam sandwiches and such. Other times, luck threw us a feast, and for a while, we dined like Hapsburg royalty.

Some of these things — good grief!—cost more than I’d ever be willing to admit. Other trinkets were probably picked up for spare change.

Then it hits me —

We’re all just racing through this wild Barnum & Bailey circus called life.

We scoop up shiny little things and lacquered keepsakes as we whirl past, sometimes out of need, sometimes just because they catch our eye in a brief moment.

Some are hard-won trophies, earned with blood, sweat, and stubbornness. Others are cheerful little knickknacks, tokens of yesterday’s laughter and adventures.

We line up our treasures behind glass in curio cabinets, hoping the stories somehow might leak out and fill the room: a kid’s cheerleader uniform, a tooth tucked in an envelope, a baby’s onesie, faded with time — the breadcrumbs of who we once were, scattered around our homes and tucked away neatly into desk drawers and nooks and crannies.

And then I wonder —

When it’s all over, when we’ve said what we meant to say and done what we meant to do, and we finally transition and slip away into the darkness…

After all the battles we lost and the victories we carved out, and these tiny little treasures we managed to somehow, despite the universe, retain…

Well…they’re finally passed along, boxed up, donated, or left to gather dust in storage, waiting for someone else to decide what they’re worth… and perhaps feather their own nest with our stuff, if we’re lucky enough!

It’s strange, isn’t it? —

To realize all these treasures, once so fiercely worked hard for, loved, and admired, that we see and walk past every day… simply dissolve back into the vast sea of humanity… like sand scattered back onto the beach — in the warm summer breeze.

Lord have mercy.

Photo by talented photographer Charlotte May. Check out her amazing work on www.pexels.com