"Shattered glass is only a hazard if it's not cleaned up."
I was on a run with my dogs the other day, when I came across a shattered bottle of Smirnoff Ice. As I ran through, I kicked the larger pieces aside, in attempt to clear the way. Three strides later, I realized that if I didn't pick it up, who would? I thought about a kid playing outside. I thought about the person whose car was parked along the curb. I thought about the potential harm that could be avoided by doing something now.
I had dog bags with me, so I turned around and picked up the pieces. As I did this, I had this realization and moment of gratitude.
I had watched the film, "Remember Me," earlier in the day. It opens up with a graphic scene in the NY subway. As I watched it, I recalled a particular night in New York City when there were several opportunities for the evening to go terribly wrong, yet miraculously, nothing actually did. As I cleaned up this broken bottle, I thought to myself, "I am grateful for my safety...especially during the pivotal moments when I've needed it the most. This act is in honor of my gratitude."
After I picked up all the pieces, and I walked away to dispose of the glass, I thought to myself, "Things break, but shattered glass is only a hazard if it is not cleaned up." When we address what's broken, we can contain the aftermath.
The more we walk over the broken pieces, the smaller and more numerous they become. Over time, we may stop noticing that they're there, until we step on a piece, and endure more unnecessary pain. What was once a quick clean up becomes time consuming. It takes energy to avoid. The grand irony is that the sooner we take the time to clean it up, the more time and energy we save.
We always have a choice to do something about the shattered glass we encounter. What do you choose to do?