Holes

I have a friend (well okay, I have a few, but I'm meaning one in particular at this moment). He may feature somewhat prominently on here, because he is fun and we go on adventures. On this here blog of mine, I'm going to call him the Lumberjack, for no reason other than the fact that he wears a lot of plaid, boots, and has a beard. Apparently some stereotypes are alive and well in my head. Sorry folks.

Anyway, we were out exploring some areas with river access around my house, because the Lumberjack loves to fish. Loves it. The sun was setting, and I was getting a little chilly, because even though summer has decided to slowly begin, I am a wimp. He, the Lumberjack, handed me his coat that happened to be in the back seat of his vehicle. I gratefully slipped it on and settled myself down on a rock by the river to watch as he tested the waters for fishing.

After a few minutes, I slipped my hands into his coat pockets, and in the right hand side, found a hole in the lining. The material around it was smooth, soft and worn, and something in my weird mind found it comforting. It was like a little secret that no one knew about. People see him in that coat all the time,  as he wears it all through the colder months (like one does with a coat, obviously). But very few people, if any, knew there was this soft little hole in his pocket. It's not something that would come up in many conversations, and I don't know how many folks ever felt the need to put their hands in his pockets.

Now, I know this is a lot of talk about a hole in the pocket of a coat, but it got me thinking-- everyone around us has little spots like that in our hearts and minds. Holes, or patches, worn out from too much of something, whether it be poking, prodding, or even just lots of remembering. Sometimes they are from fond, memorable experiences, looked back on with contentment, and other times they're from trials. Hard times in life that left little, or not so little, marks. Hidden reminders. These marks aren't on display, they aren't often topics of conversation (except for right now, when that hidden hole in the Lumberjack's pocket became the subject of a whole blog post). People are so complex and made up of so many layers and stories, happy and sad, with advice and experiences to learn and grow from. Everyone deserves to be treated gently, because from the outside you have no way of seeing where their little tears, bumps and scrapes might be.

I hope all that made sense, and I hope you, reader, whoever and wherever you might be, are having a fantastic day.