I am a complainer.
This is not the point of today's blog. It's not even something I've tried (much) to change. It's just a fact necessary for this story.
When I was twelve, at summer camp, as I was prattling along with my "white-girl problems," (thank you Susan Isaacs for that line,) a little boy named Jeff said, "Oh yeah? Well at least you're not ADOPTED."
I had nothing to say. He was right. I wasn't adopted.
And later, as an adult (in number, not in attitude), I was again complaining (it's sorta my thing, remember?) someone said, "At least you didn't spend the NIGHT IN JAIL."
Hm. Again, true. No jail time served. Yet, anyway.
These two moments, a decade apart, immediately married themselves in my brain.
Two Random Things
First, sin begets sin. My selfishness (complaints) brought out the selfishness (You idiot girl, shut it) of others. (My stuff's important. No, MY STUFF'S important.) Nobody wins the who-hurts-more race. What was it about my complaining that brought out these, "At least you never..." moments? It was simply two different people feeling unimportant and un-listened to.
Second, I think what these guys were saying was that I didn't have compassion. As I was going on and on about myself, I didn't SEE anybody else. Isn't that the basis of compassion? Isn't that where it starts? SEEING?
I don't really have any answers today. I am still a complainer.
Today's post is simply a reminder to self: you never know what anybody is going through. I'm starting to believe everybody's going through something.
HAS SOMEONE EVER STOPPED YOU IN YOUR TRACKS?
DOES COMPASSION START WITH SEEING?
DO YOU COMPLAIN LIKE ME?