Columnists
Compassion under fire
I’m going to start this column with #MeToo.
Amongst all of the other crap and corruption we all have to live with these days, now we have the threat of the supervolcano in Yellowstone Park? Seriously, as much as I am all about keeping up with current events, I feel as if this story is just one step beyond for me. Helpless and frustrated, is what I feel most days. When I’m not feeling helpless and frustrated, I’m angry and annoyed. There are moments in the day when I feel completely hamstrung about world events. And then? Well, and then I lash out at people who have only created a minor disturbance in my force. Should I really care so much about insignificant stuff? What if a bed goes unmade or the laundry pile is as tall as a toddler or the dishes still need to be washed? Losing my cool over everyday burps and hiccups, obviously, gives me a sense of control in a world where the power to influence is in the hands of a few—mostly a few idiots. Or is it?
Some of you who know me are probably thinking I just need to stop fussing about the idiots in Washington, in Toronto and in Ottawa, and start thinking about how to make life, in my local world, better. If the supervolcano blows, there isn’t much I can do about it. However, blowing up about an unruly jumble of sneakers in the front hall isn’t going to cool that Yellowstone magma chamber. If Donald J. Turnip picks a nuclear fight-to-the-death with Kim Jong Dumb-Arse, my hands are tied. I’m not going to be a happy camper, but getting my knickers in a twist about soggy, misplaced bath towels isn’t going to dampen their chest-thumping spirits and sure as H E double hockey sticks won’t solve my towel problem. I was raised by a mom and dad who put a lot of stock in orderliness. Our family was big and our house wasn’t quite big enough. Putting things right and picking up after ourselves was absolutely necessary. There wasn’t any wiggle room in my parents’ house-rules because there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room in the house. I don’t remember either of my parents losing their cool because things got a bit messy. But I have become a cranky person with a neat-and-tidy problem, and I am the only person who can’t live with it. Or, I can do something about it. I don’t have to make my problem everyone else’s problem and I need to see that my way isn’t the only way. There will always be a room in the house that stays cluttered and messy. Gently closing a door, as my youngest daughter would remind me, is the answer. She also told me it wouldn’t hurt if I understood and appreciated why life isn’t as orderly as I’d like it to be. Smarty-pants and smart kid.
Recently I wrote I was trying to be more open-minded person. Well, I am working on being be more open-minded about all issues, including cultural, religious, personal space, race and gender. I look around this community at the wonderful people who work hard to make their own life and the lives of friends, family and community members better, and I feel energized and excited by their compassion. We live in a very challenging time. Inequality, exploitation, global warming, wars, poverty and destruction of our natural world seem to be so everyday that many of us have become immune to the problems.
As the Dalai Lama says, “Compassion is not religious business, it is human business, it is not luxury, it is essential for our own peace and mental stability, it is essential for human survival.” I shall be more compassionate.
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