Perspective

When dealing with problems outside of one's control, people often recommend to take perspective. Think about the starving child in a third world country; think about the mother who just lost a child to a mortar attack; think about the father who can't put food on the table. Think about all the ways that you are blessed and be at peace. There are people in this world struggling with obstacles and trauma that you cannot imagine. You are not one of them, and so get over yourself; move on.

I've tried this. When the pain is raw and throbbing in my chest over something like "I can't have children," "I'm persona non grata to the adoption industry," et cetra, I remind myself that these issues are not as significant as others are facing today, but part of me always hesitates. I feel like I'm saying, "At least, I'm not that guy," which makes me feel worse.

I am blessed. I have a home. I have food in my fridge. I have money in the bank. I have a job. I have a college education. I have a loving partner and supportive family and friends. I have health insurance. All of these things are true, but I am still sore. What right do I have to be in pain, when there are those in the world suffering more greatly than I?

"A nation's greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest members." 

~ Mahatma Ghandi

We are at a point in history where we must not think of nations. Our world is too small. All of those people I listed above, they are my family. When I think on their experiences, it stabs me in my gut. It is not pity, but a deep, dividing wound that settles in my soul past where cancer ever struck. In this week of bombings in Iraq and Lebanon, shelling of chemicals in Syria, protesting in Egypt, the world spun on, and if I think about all of us, a larger grief settles around me...a grief for all my brothers and sisters.

I think I focus on my problems, because I can. If I open myself up to the world's pain, I am not a big enough vessel to carry it. If everyone's my brother and sister, then all their pain is my pain.

Earth from Mars. Credit: Nasa.

It's like I'm trying to think about the universe, the vastness of space, the millions of galaxies spinning around in all directions, and my brain is too small to hold it all in. So I look at my garden and I appreciate its beauty and its savagery. I can see that and know it. 

My grief is the same way. If I think about the world too long, my heart becomes full of sorrow, and I cannot hold it all, but I can't afford to become paralyzed by it.

I can know it is there and choose to act. I can't solve the world's problems, but I can do something.  If I can heal myself, I can go out and do a little. If we all did a little, we could move mountains. Can something so trite be still so true?

One day an old man was walking down the beach just before dawn.  In the distance he saw a young man picking up stranded starfish and throwing them back into the sea.  As the old man approached the young man, he asked, "Why do you spend so much energy doing what seems to be a waste of time?"  The young man explained that the stranded starfish would die if left in the morning sun.  The old man exclaimed, "But there must be thousands of starfish.  How can your efforts make any difference?"  The young man looked down at the starfish in his hand and as he threw it to safety in the sea, he said," It makes a difference to this one!" 

https://www.facebook.com/StarfishCatAndKittenRescue