As you are likely well aware, I think a lot about a lot of things—mostly benign, inconsequential things, but in the end, don’t all our experiences play an equal part in shaping what we call existence? I was sucked down the rabbit hole once again on a recent trip to the gym. I don’t know if they have this at many gyms, but shortly upon entering there is a table with a small basket on it. If you look inside this basket, you will find a uniform pattern of metal, plastic, leather, and possibly something furry – otherwise known as: a pile of keys. On a busy day, the pile will overflow onto the table and resemble the entrance of one of the parties, you know, with the keys, and the husbands, and the wives... Anyway, the first time I saw this, I remember thinking, “Wow, anyone could just take someone’s keys and take off,” to which I was immediately horrified at my own assumptions and projections about people. I then proceeded to logically evaluate the situation. If someone is a member of the gym and goes there to work out, it’s highly unlikely they happen to be a car thief planning on pumping some iron before taking off in someone’s Range Rover. Also, this particular gym is located in a fairly well off suburban area, where I often leave my keys in my car when I run into a store and almost always leave it unlocked. Then I began to think a bit deeper about what it means to have a key basket based on the very real fact that someone could take someone’s car keys and with a small amount of work, could even have access to their home. When I think about the generous collection of keys at my gym, I feel excited and hopeful. For me, it signifies trust. For some, it may just be convenient. But even though I used to just carry my keys in my pocket, I now make a point of putting them in the basket* on account of what it represents. *Since the time this was written, I'm sad to report the key basket has been removed. I didn't ask why, but I'm going to make a point of doing so. To be continued...