French Toast
If you walk around Boston enough, eventually you will run into seeing a few of these red hand
symbols. The hands indicate that you should not cross the street since it is the turn for motor vehicles
and cyclists to pass by. Usually a lot of people in Boston ignore these red hands. They typically argue
that the red hands are present for too long and only delay the objectives and timelines of everyone
around them. For the most part, they are right. I too have found myself waiting for the red hand to
turn into the white walking person when no cars or cyclists were present to pass by me. Regardless, I
found myself yesterday facing another red hand and I chose to stop when I could have walked freely
without much, if any, recourse. I did so deliberately because lately I have felt so forced to continue
pushing and continue driving forward wheels of productivity in my life when everything seems to be
encountering a great struggle with the global pandemic. Instead of rushing back to my apartment with
two bags of food from Trader Joes', I instead sat on a bench and breathed deeply. There is not enough
time spent towards these small acts for many of our lives. There is instead somewhere to be and
something to do. Lately, feeling over-encumbered by constant news of the international sorrows the
only thing I want to do is reflect with those around me about the weight of the world and what we can
do to resolve it. My recommendation is to stop when you get the sign to do so, and sit down and
reflect when you have the time.
The red hand I saw
A restaurant I visited often before things changed.
Geese and their babies.
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