1. Compassion is on my mind. I check myself often. Am I compassionate? Do I live my life according to my principles?
2. Sometimes compassion is a challenge–or maybe it’s figuring out what is the most compassionate way to support someone or something. Like yesterday, some friends and I were having a discussion about taxes. Some of them thought flat tax rate–the same rate should apply for everybody. Even the working poor. Hard to express to someone who has never been dirt poor, gone hungry, or been cold in the middle of winter, but when you are poor, every penny counts for your survival. It’s that simple.
3. That said. There is something to be said for a tough form of compassion. What I mean is compassion doesn’t necessarily mean a hand out…does it? It can also mean showing someone a way out through their own efforts.
4. Anyway. What do I know? I may have it all wrong. Several years ago I worked with impoverished communities and it’s never as simple as it looks, never as easy as it seems to help out. I spoke up when I worked there about the fact that we were supposed to be helping impoverished communities—and we were having our meetings at fancy hotels in big cities, flying first class. Suffice it to say, I didn’t last long.
5. Many times when I look back at my life, I catch myself thinking “If only my parents had money, maybe I’d have had such-and-such opportunity…and I’d be better off now.” But hey, I’m doing good. I have a roof over my head, plenty to eat, warmth in the winter, work that I love, and a great family; wonderful friends. I also think I appreciate every little thing I do have. Sometimes I thank the Universe that I did not grow up in that middle-class existence. My working-class values have done me well. This is who I am at my core.
Thank you! I will be asking myself a lot of questions through out my day!
Thanks for posting, Jennifer. 😉
It was their loss that you “didn’t last long.” Those people–and we all know who they are–need a daily reality check. It is they who lack compassion; think how far those hundreds? thousands? would to to aid and educate the underprivileged if meetings were held in the local library’s meeting rooms (many have large spaces for public use.)
I grew up in what could only have been a poverty-level household [we didn’t know it] and wouldn’t change it, now. Then was a different matter. “Proper” families didn’t allow their daughters to come home to play after school or on other occasions; I wasn’t invited to, well, anything. ONE of a thousand things I gained from it was self-sufficiency. No matter what happens, now that we’re so-rich-we’re-rolling-in-dough, I know how to survive. [btw, that was a joke.]
The privileged deserve our compassion, on the whole, because most will never know what want taught us. You can’t buy survival skills and drive.
I hear you, Kate. Thanks so much for sharing. And I know exactly what you mean about knowing how to survive. X