[Title to the tune of “12 Days of Christmas”]
Monday, October 3rd 2016
Hubsand and I are palpably aware of our blessings; humbled with gratitude, awe-filled in our appreciation. That doesn’t mean life is easy or that we’re immune to ever acting like ungrateful jerks. But having had our health, housing, employment and fiscal viability all profoundly threatened in the past, it’s hard not to feel lucky, grateful and -I hope- humbled by our good fortunes.
Since last month when all my three went back to school, I have found more latitude of mental space (go figure), and a tentative ability to exhale sometimes. So it only makes sense that -in addition to my ongoing meagre political monitoring of the atrocities in the world- I turn my attention to some of the loved ones in my immediate circle whose lives are proverbially on fire.
BUT OH MAN I WAS NOT READY FOR THIS SHIT SHOW.
Of the FIVE distressed parties in my heart’s purview, there are FOUR underemployed, THREE getting evicted, TWO in the throes of divorce and TWO in the aftermath of attempted suicide… “and a partridge in a pear tree.”
(Musing that perhaps we are bad luck, I’ve begun asking hubsand, “Is it us?”)
Add to this the bombs and chemicals being dropped on CHILDREN in Aleppo and other places unknown, including on the HOSPITALS trying to save them. Meanwhile my kids are given a bit of extra screen time to enable husband and I to absorb and *try* to help some of what’s going on around us, then on comes dazzling advertisements for crappy plastic toys to drive consumerism in the U.S. which is the fundamental PROBLEM UNDERNEATH 100% of the above problems. (In a word; ENTITLEMENT.)
I feel crazy.
So my poor kids; we finish a wonderful healthy meal, snuggle on our couch to a lovely movie and it’s time to go to bed but the mere IDEA of BRUSHING THEIR TEETH in one of our TWO lovely bathrooms with potable water, light, heat, privacy, safety etc. is naturally beyond the pale.
And I GO a little crazy.
God PLEASE forgive me if I sound like I am complaining about my own circumstance, because I understand I HAVE NO REAL PROBLEMS.
But then again the children getting bombed (and others everywhere getting stolen, molested, assaulted, sold, killed)… ARE my circumstances. It is humans doing these things and I am human.
It is America above all else perpetuating the symptoms of capitalism against economies, people and environments globally, and I am American.
I’m American as the NFL where rapists are revered and peaceful protesters are demeaned. American as the same corporations cranking out toys, junk food and cartoons to consume our resources so the corporations can violate the earth, poison our water, kill our minorities, break our treaties…
…and pay off the government to legislate their ability to do so.
It is tempting to feel helpless. Well I do feel helpless.
But I also know what to do:
I am sad. Humbled. Honored. Grateful.