Hunger? We understand. Think we do. Satiated, imagining we understand. Our cupboard, our fridge, they’re full, stores are five minutes away …
Pain. Really? Remedies in medicine cabinets, health care cards in hand, cures in hospitals just minutes away …
War. Huh? Can headlines, streaming coverage or screaming TV inform?
Closer to home, every kind of torment. Real and imagined. How could we tell?
We can’t. Doesn’t mean their raw aches don’t exist. No open gashes, distended hungry bellies or bombs falling – closer to home, people hurt. Closer to home, people bleed sorrows every day. Don’t notice when we don’t hurt.
Closer to home, people without a roof, without a meal, without a hope. Without anyone noticing much, caring much, or doing much.
We ARE covering this story – we are all reporters on front lines, see it every day (or choose not to see) because we live such convenient lives of convenience. Our problems, most often, aren’t really problems at all compared to people with real problems.
What can we do?
No rule book. No protocols to observe.
Do. Be. Live. Give. Single word solutions. Say yes more. Smile more. Extend a hand, shake hands, grasp hands, get a grip …
Here’s a start. Tip a waiter. Means you bought a meal. Means you walked across some threshold to deposit your business. Means you share a meal, with a friend or stranger. Means you got out of bed to spend a productive day.
So busy, growing a day older every day – imagine growing kinder, softer, focused on someone else’s problems rather than our own selfish wants.
written / published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: 12C/54F, sun obscured, clouds layered, in folds like blankets fold – calm and spectacular start to a weekend of rest/leisure and reflection