To Go Box

The other day, I was meeting a friend for lunch at a hole-in-the-wall bar/cafe under a bank. This is a rather innovative location for such a venue. I would love to sit down with whomever had that idea in the first place.

While I was sitting there in the lobby of the bank waiting to catch up with this companion of mine, I stared out the window overlooking the crowded downtown streets and collage of characters walking by. It was while I was observing the scenery that I noticed someone passing by carrying a to go box, most likely holding the leftovers from their lunch hour. I began to wonder where it was they came from that they couldn’t finish their meal, and where it was they were off to, dressed so casually. The thought rolled its way into my head that it would be so kind of them to simply hand off their meal to one of the many cold individuals sitting against one of the hundreds of walls throughout the city in their journey back home. Just that one package of food could be so thoroughly appreciated by someone who may not even be able to remember their last meal. Speaking from hindsight, out of the last ten times I have had a to go box, I have become complacent, forgotten about it, and was given no other option but to throw it away. It isn’t fair to assume that this individual will follow the same pattern, but wouldn’t it be nice to see it through that someone were able to enjoy it, if not them?

I then thought about how everyone that so nonchalantly passed by this cafe was headed in a different direction, some back to work, some back home, some perhaps to a foreign city hours away. Everyone of these characters directionally wandering about the streets arguably had somewhere important they were on their way to. Many probably had multiple tasks left on their agendas, and in that moment, I wished I could’ve read their minds. I could only assume that the weight of their lunches was evidently represented by the weight of their hectic schedules and deadlines. I came to the realization that each of these passerby's, whether or not they were returning from lunch, had a to go box of some kind that they were either eager or reluctant to open and resume.

We all have these to go boxes of flimsy styrofoam containing leftovers that, if ignored will soon become moldy, turning into something that is no longer food, and will have to be disposed of in some way. It is easy to presume that many have full boxes, so stuffed to the brim that the small latches can barely contain the contents. Sometimes it can be easy to be-rid ourselves of the clutter in our lives, and have room to take in more to chew on, quite literally. Other times though, it is better to empty some of our leftovers onto a friend, a companion, or even a complete stranger. These leftovers come in all sizes, spices, and flavors. Occasionally they are seen as food we don’t need, other times it’s merely the leftover stress in our minds and hearts that we can’t bear to make room for anymore.

While it is certainly easier to pass on a heavy package of delicious food to someone than it is a heavy box of worry and distress, it’s of equal value to find someone to give both of these to go boxes to, so both you and your hungry neighbor are left feeling a little lighter, and heavier, respectively.

This is something that has been especially beneficial and prominent in my life recently. Often times it is so much easier to keep this leftover food to ourselves, stocking our fridge so full of unnecessary junk that it becomes impossible to even shut the door to keep it refrigerated. At some point, we all need to learn how to empty the spoiled food and clutter from our shelves. Even though they will eventually become full again at some point, we should make an effort to empty it yet again, as inconvenient and annoying as it may seem in the moment. I still struggle with emptying my shelves and just leaving the old food behind, despite the odor and mess it creates. It’s so easy to let it sit and cultivate into something more than what it was when you received it. I even have to make myself a reminder when it becomes too packed. Open the door, pick up the rotten food, throw it away, and walk away without giving it a second thought.