I drove over to

Como Lake recently

With my Baby Boy

To take a little

Winter walk.

Just the two of us.

It was the day after Thanksgiving

And there were

Only a couple cars in the parking lot.

It was overcast and

Cool but not cold

And utterly still in that

Wintery calm way.

As I walked pushing

The stroller, I was

Enjoying the sunlight

Through my eyelashes,

The light refracted by cracks

in the newly

Formed ice,

The hay-colored

Dormant pussy willows

And long grass

Along the shoreline.

As I rounded the

Bend near the

Parking lot to

Start my second lap,

Coming up on the driver’s side of

Our

Big

Black

Suburban

(We have four kids

And a poorly plowed alley,

That’s why)

I could see that

Something was

Weird about the passenger side window.

At first it looked like a

Frost pattern in a sunset shape,

But as I got closer I saw that

For the first time ever,

I had been the victim of a

Car break-in.

My luck had run out

And tempered glass was

Everywhere.

At first I laughed

(Humorlessly)

For three reasons:

First, this was one time I

Actually didn’t have anything

Of value in the car.

No wallet,

No cell phone,

No laptop,

Nothing.

Second,

I realized that what they’d taken was an

Empty cloth library bag that

Had nothing in it,

Not even a library book.

And third:

I have comprehensive

Car insurance.

(Turns out there was a

$500 deductible on glass.

I didn’t know that at the time, though,

So my laugh was naive.)

Ha ha, stupid robber,

I thought.

And I even just

Continued with my plan to do

Another lap.

Not gonna let this

Asshole

Change my plans.

But as I walked,

I started thinking about

The person who had

Done it.

Who had smashed my car window

On the chance that

The bag

In the foot well was

A purse,

Contained some

Cash or credit cards

Or a phone.

I had recently been listening to

Some Buddhist talks online,

And one phrase had

Stuck with me:

“If you live an

Immoral life,

You will suffer.”

And this is

Buddhist suffering:

The irritability and restlessness of

“Dis-ease.”

I know that kind of

Suffering well.

Like everyone,

I behave in

Varying degrees of

Immorality

Constantly,

And so am more or less

Continuously in a state of

Dull psychic pain,

Rattling around this earth with my

Character defects

Dangling from my

Being like the

Ghost of Marley with his

Chains in

A Christmas Carol.

So I had a moment of

Identification with and

Even true compassion for

Whoever it was that,

On the day after Thanksgiving,

Felt it necessary to

Lurk in the parking lot of

Como Lake and

Put a blunt object through my car window

In hopes that the

Bag down there would have

What

He

Needed in it.

I totally get it.

Even the violence of it

I understand.

It felt like such a

Desperately

Human

Act

To do that,

And then go out into the world

Sliding that new shard of

Suffering into the

Hole in his

Gut or

Head or

Heart or

Wherever it manifests for him.

God,

I just really

Feel for that person.

Sitting here writing,

My chest swells a little bit

Thinking about him.

It’s not even,

“There but for the

Grace of God

Go I,”

Although that’s true.

It’s just,

I understand

Suffering.

I have suffered,

And you,

Robber,

Have suffered,

And here we are,

Two humans whose

Pain-paths crossed

The morning after

Thanksgiving in the

Parking lot of Como Lake.

It’s not because I’m a

Good person

That I can say,

“I don’t care.

I forgive you.

Peace.”

It’s precisely because I am a

Bad

One

That I can say those things

To you.