Buckets

We are all holding a bucket.

Every interaction puts an object in someone’s bucket.

Sometimes what we put in is beautiful. Lovely. Radiant.

Sometimes, we put in something ugly. Gross. Unspeakable.

Some people place money in our buckets. Some place objects, base or noble. Some people put in food, or books, or gadgets.

Some put music, or laughter, or art in our buckets. Others fill our buckets with tears and screams and pain.

Some people place their own hearts in our buckets.

We look for people to put just the right things in our buckets. Some live in search of someone to put just the right thing in to complete their collection.

Others have received horrible things in their buckets and spend their lives wishing they could take these things out. But once an object has been placed in a bucket, it is there for good.

We spend our lives obsessing over what others have placed in our buckets. We believe that we are the sum total of our bucket’s contents.

But.

We are wrong.

Because we are really the sum total of what we have placed in the buckets of others.

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