I am one of 8,078,859,508… 8,078,859,571… 8,078,859,601… 8,078,859,688… 8,078,859,762… 8,078,859,856… 8,078,859,937… 8,078,860,060…

To increase the world population by five-hundred-fifty-two individual Humans, it took approximately four minutes with approximately one-hundred births for every forty-five deaths. All that drama (1,002 babies born, 450 people died), as I sit at the beach having my morning coffee.

Four minutes.

This is for me. A reminder that I too often forget; believing I deserve consideration more so than the next person, or the 20th person, or the 8,000,000,000th person. I am no more deserving. I am also no less deserving. But more importantly, because I consistently misinterpret “I am no less deserving,” I am no more deserving. I must continue to remind myself.

Four minutes.

Perhaps it is appropriate. Perhaps because it is my nature, perhaps it is okay that I am most important. If we are equally deserving, perhaps it is my responsibility to find an edge. But at the expense of another?

Four minutes.

Anything, everything with momentary Life is deserving. All Life is momentary. An individual, sentient Life, especially so. Yet the ability to comprehend, to discern, skews perception, frustrates understanding, inhibits compassion.

Four minutes.

All that drama as I work to find, to hone, to justify, to polish, to sharpen my edge.