image from lifeatthebecks.blogspot.com
Today I ate lunch in a courtyard at school. It was a healthy lunch- all organic, lots of fruits and veggies, all 4 food groups recognized equally. I nibbled on it while drinking a 5 dollar coffee and wearing a really expensive designer wool coat to keep out the 66 degree chill of the day. While doing this I was also feeling very, very sorry for myself.
I had gotten an unsettling email that morning from a family member and I was letting it seep its poison into every action of my existence. Maybe this explains why I maintained this foul mood while eating my lunch as a homeless man rummaged for left over food next to me. I hate to admit that I was so wrapped up in my own agenda that I didn't even notice him.
And then the blind girl walked by.
She made me notice everything, mainly because she didn't notice anything. I watched her for, (I'm cringing admitting this,) about 20 minutes as she obviously searched for something. I thought about stepping up and asking if she needed help, but I don't know the rules about this sort of thing. Are you supposed to? She had a seeing eye dog. I smelled like ham. Should I go up and ask if she needed help? I smelled like ham. I just ate ham. Don't dogs love ham? Maybe I shouldn't say anything. Her stick swung close to me as she traversed this uncharted path and I actually shrank back.
Yeah. I'm ashamed of myself too.
Luckily, a good Samaritan, (A.K.A. anyone but me) stepped in and asked if they could help her find something.
Her answer? A trash can. THIS POOR GIRL WAS LOOKING FOR A TRASH CAN FOR 20 MINUTES WHILE I SAT THERE WORRYING ABOUT THE ROSEMARY HAM I JUST ATE FOR LUNCH.
Let's just say my next meal was humble pie.
I'd like to think that this lesson was absorbed and carried throughout my day. I'd like to tell you that I went home and paid particular attention to those less fortunate and put the kibosh on my pity party.
Let me tell you what happened instead.
I went home and continued to pout, blind girl gone from my inner vision. (No pun intended. Ok, maybe. But only because it works.) I went home to my beautiful, warm apartment and opened up my nice computer and found an e-mail from a friend who is actually going through kidney failure.
As I was writing him a reply I got a text from my personal trainer, (a.k.a Satan. Or Venus Williams,) who asked if I ever intended on showing up for my (paid! because I am very lucky to afford it!) training session. And I groaned. And then I actually whined aloud to myself: "God. My life sucks."
HOLD UP SISTER.
Granted, my trainer is a sadistic psycho and makes me do inhumane things to keep my body in the impeccable shape it is in, (that was sarcasm folks,) and granted, my husband lives 374982374984 miles away and I make out more with my toothbrush than him...but who...exactly...do I think I am?
A blind girl searched for a trash can with a smile on her face the entire time I sat near her munching ham and worrying about what my family thought of me. I was able to go to the gym and work out while my friend has bigger things to worry about...like his KIDNEY for Christ sake. How do I eat an expensive lunch in the presence of a man who is digging through garbage?
When did I feel so entitled and so self centered?
When did I lose sight of what really matters in life?
A friend came over later for cheese. (Cheese was literally the main course.) And we talked about our lives, our frustrations, our loves, our dreams. And I remembered to savor every second of it because I was freshly showered, healthy, alive, well, with a beating, (albeit selfish,) heart.
Yes. Brett lives far away. YES, I devoted a whole blog to how I feel about it. I am often selfish, I often lose sight of what really matters and how lucky I am.
The next time someone appears a little bit lost around me, I'm going to offer my limited view to help. Because God knows I am lost so much myself.
And it would be lovely to have someone look up from their ham...and help a blind girl (like me,) out.
We only get this go around once, folks. Let's make it beautiful.
And not just for ourselves.