Thursday, March 6, 2014

My Own Truth (Again)

March 6, 2014

I want to be the first in line to get my brownie points, earned for the on-going suffering, endless sacrifice, or an ocean of tears. There isn’t even a line, rumor has it, for coupons from the tortured anguish, generous altruism, or constant selflessness. In fact, I don't even get any for my countless bigheartedness, daily gratitude, or doling out mucho compassion. 

So I may as well just do what makes me passionate, accept the thrill with each day, whatever that amounts to, and be in the moment.

I am moved to find a way to work with the homeless youth somewhere. Monday, I stood at the SafeZone’s locked door, shivering in the subzero temps in my big girl skirt, hose, wavering in my uncomfortable fashion boots. Made numerous phone calls to the un-named disrespectful man I was scheduled to meet and the “Operator.” Had to leave forced cheery messages while my blue lips chattered, knees knocked together and unfeeling toes curled. Just now, three days later, heard from The Man. He had an emergency.

Read the article this morning: http://readersupportednews.org/news-section2/318-66/22404-from-death-row-a-powerful-letter-on-slavery and am all the more determined to get out of my own head and do something to educate the youth.


Onward!

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