I look at my keyboard and see layers of dust and dirt, compounded upon itself from a complete neglect of cleaning it the past year. It’s actually kind of disgusting.

Fingerprints.
Smudges.
Traces of cat hair.
Chip dust that worked its way in-between the homerow keys.

I see a black backdrop with white letter taunting me to write something new today. Something original.

The company lettering on the top right, a red to white transition, reminding me I paid dearly for this piece of hardware. Better hope it doesn’t break anytime soon.

These are the things that grab my attention.

But what I fail to see, and to remember, is this is the keyboard where several books have been written… scores of blog posts… emails that opened opportunities… and has been the conduit for my writing solace.

It’s not what it is, but what it has done and what it is capable of doing.

We’re so eager to look at what’s in front of us right now, we forget to see past the flaws and the supposed perfections.

Look at your hands right now.

Think of all the things your hands have done…
people they’ve held,
shoulders they’ve comforted,
textures they’ve felt

and ask, how many people really know their history?

What we fail to see is what actually makes us human. It’s the stories beyond our senses and we should do well to remember them.