Sudden events, often of a tragic nature, tend to push the reset button on our daily gripes and grumbles. The list of things that become a burr under the saddle is nearly infinite- how hot it is, how cold it is, the shape of our bodies, the things that inconvenience like the road construction which slows our path to a job that we also complain about.
The sudden awareness that someone else is struggling for survival instead of a bigger house, or who has to fear what the night may bring, while we feel discomfited by the not-so-frequent bather who stands outside the coffee shop we visit each morning, asking for some spare change- this brings to a skidding halt our self-centered bemoaning of the travails of our daily lives.
But only for a short while. My awareness is as short as my memory, and in no time at all, I forget to be thankful for my warm house, a car that runs, the ability to call 911 and know that I will receive aid, the freedom of choice that I exercise almost daily. I forget that while I might not like having to park eight blocks away and walk in the cold wind, I still can do so, to attend an event or visit a museum, or some other discretionary diversion that is far outside the scope of the life of a refugee, or even a poor child in Appalachia, or perhaps my neighbor.
It's partly an accident of birth, and partly just good fortune thereafter that is the reason my list of worries pales in comparison to that of many others in the world. I can't help but feel that this means I owe more than a sense of my good fortune to the universe at large, and my fellow sojourner in particular.
What and how much is required?
