It's All Relative

I couldn't sleep last night. I kept imagining what I would do if my house had been leveled and I didn't have anyplace to sleep. Where would we go? What if my children's school had been destroyed and their little bodies crushed under the rubble? What if Scott were missing and feared dead, my house a pile of rubble, and I had to step over dead bodies to search for food? What if I couldn't find any food for my crying children, if I didn't have any milk for Ptolemy, if I didn't know the fate of our parents or relatives? It is hard to imagine that people just like me are facing those circumstances right now.

Here in our paradise, where we have plenty of food and water, we complain about the government, health care, traffic, the inversion. All the vitriol seems so out of place. And here we sit in heaven, a heaven that is absolutely unattainable to millions around the world. On our same planet, babies whose mothers' bodies are crushed and buried are dying of dehydration. What right, really, do we have to grumble? If nothing else, I'm trying to accept my blessings and "hardships" with humility and gratitude, accepting the responsibility of being grateful. Sadly, it's not always easy, but where much is given, much is expected.

I wish, I wish we could all go to Haiti and share our bounty. So much is being done, and we can be part of it. But we are left with an incredibly unfair amount of wealth and comfort that we have no way to share. We have to ask ourselves, what is the least I can do? As difficult as it may be, we have to try to understand how meaningless our problems would be if we were hit by a devastating earthquake, and accept our problems with dignity. Those things that would matter if the sum of our lives' work lay in ruins, that is what we can try to focus on today, and that is a start.

I tend to get all wound up in the mornings and often send my precious little ones out the door carrying my angst that they get there on time and with their work done and in their backpacks. This morning, I managed to send them with love, knowing that if their school were crushed to ruins, the knowledge that I love them would be more valuable to Freestone, Araceli and Ruby than the knowledge that I wanted them to hurry that morning.

We here in paradise have been blessed beyond measure while others haven't. Not having any right to complain is tough, but it's an easier burden to bear than that of the Haitian people today.