Donate Your Clothes

Today while I was driving I realized the magnitude of the amount of things that pass through my vision without me seeing them. I am sure it is the same for most humans. There are literally thousands of things that I could see if I wanted to, but none of them are important enough to register.

While moving at sixty-five miles per hour down the main thoroughfare, dozens of yellow reflectors pass through my range of vision every second. I don't notice any of them, but they are the most important things on the road. Their presence is known, even if not acknowledged. I feel the yellow line. It is an invisible barrier - not because I can't see it, but because I choose not to.

We recognize the collection of yellow, forming a line hundreds of miles long, but we do not distinguish individual reflectors. They are like soldiers in a stalemate, each one only important as a member of a team, never winning or losing, never going home, only existing for the sake of existence. Occupation. Authority.

If we paid attention, we would see their patterns, these self-sacrificing dots of trafficky malevolence. Sometimes they come at us one at a time. Sometimes two at a time. Often it's one, two, one, two. Each pattern with its own meaning. If you're on the 880, north of San Jose, you might be lucky enough to see some dots off on the shoulder, forming their own faction. Three, two, one, blank, blank, three, two, one. They march to a different beat. Maybe they are the Salvation Army? They are an example we should all follow, even if their purpose is unknown to us.