I know that I should be writing about all the crazy adventures that Makenna and I are up to in New Zealand… But I can’t help but to take the time to explain some of what I’ve been thinking – other than how beautiful New Zealand is.
In the mix of skydiving, rafting, and mud baths…we’ve had the opportunity to meet numerous people from all over the world.
Most of what I’m about to say is obvious and you’ve all probably thought it before. I didn’t have an epiphany or discover some crazy new way of life – it’s just something that I simply can’t stop thinking about.
People are beautiful.
Everyone is so incredibly unique and amazing that its hard for me to
end conversations. It’s hard for me not to stare, even though I know it’s rude.
Look at a persons hands. They may be calm or still at that moment, maybe fiddling with a set of keys, or grasping a cup of coffee. They may be smooth or callused, young or old. It doesn’t matter. Those hands tell a story, the story of which they belong to. They are beautiful and show some sort of simplicity that life has to offer.
A hand that may have one day been the cause of something terrible, has also wiped the tears from their own saddening eyes. They are the same hands that have held onto something that they love, whether it be an object or the hands of a loved one.
No matter how long I’ve talked to somebody or what we’ve talked about, I will never be able to see what they have done and what they have seen.
And that’s okay.
Actually, I can’t help but to think that that’s the beauty of it.