Isn't it odd

Isn't it odd
God
How we spend so much time with ourselves
And know ourselves so little

I sit in the terminal
Waiting for a departure
That seems like it may never come

Watching
People walk by
I know so little about them.
Where they are from. Where they are going.
What joys and hurts
Lurk within them
What fears and hopes live
At the core

Perhaps he is headed to bury his mother
Perhaps she is headed home
From bleak hotel rooms
To the warmth of a man who
Loves her
And children eager for her return
Perhaps
Perhaps

And then I think of lessons learned
Of revelations that come
Sometimes in ways that exite and bless
Sometimes in ways painful and scary
And I realize that I am often a stranger to myself
Until I see myself clearly in the words of another
Or meet myself
In what I am doings
Or saying

It takes time
And friends
Perhaps those who are not friends
It takes fellow workers and fellow seekers
To help us begin to learn
Who this person is

Today I know myself better than I did
I like some of what I have learned
And some I hate
But it is
There is work to do.
And things to celebrate