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Perspective (Take 2)
If you read my blog, Cherry Blossom Soup, you may recall yesterday's post about how to hold it all. How to make sense of the heartbreaking news from Haiti - the stories and images of loss too great to comprehend - juxtaposed with the pieces of my own life: driving my son to school and laughing as he sings silly songs about the Gold Rush, sipping rooibos tea as I write and edit, washing organic lettuce for a dinner salad, searching through my hats for the right one to wear to the Edwardian Ball next weekend. I spoke of the guilt over having so much joy in my life when others were suffering such immense loss. And I'm still feeling it now. It reminds me of when I was volunteering for a homeless food program in Los Angeles. I would spend a few hours every week helping prepare and serve meals at the homeless center. The rest of the week I would feel guilty whenever I would eat my own meals, buy groceries or go to the movies. Every time I took out a dollar bill to pay for a cup of coffee or candy bar, I would think, "Who am I to have this treat? Why do I have this money? I should give this money to the food program. I should give all my money to the food program." And I might either save the money to offer as a donation, or else I would buy myself the cup of coffee. But either way, I didn't solve the homeless situation in Los Angeles. Nor, did I alleviate the guilt I felt at being so fortunate. Throughout my life these kinds of questions have lived inside of me. I've always wanted to be more generous, but have also always had my own well of "need" that never seemed full. I ignore it a lot of the time, but when I'm honest with myself, I realize that on a daily basis I'm silently asking the questions and making choices about where I spend my money and energy. I'm making moment to moment choices about how to hold things. How much joy and how much sorrow. How much for me and how much for them. ***Fortunately, I am a Buddhist and so I am not required to have any answers to all of this. But what my practice asks of me is to simply pay attention. How does it feel when I think about donating to Haiti? What part of me decides how much to donate? How do I know what is "enough?" What happens when I pay $15 for a dance class the day after the earthquake in Haiti? What does it feel like to see a photo of a father holding the corpse of his baby girl? What's it like to feel gratitude that my son is curled up in his comforter right now, face flush with sleep? What aspect of me is asking- and what aspect responds - to the question of "Where should I place my time, attention, and money right now?" Just looking. Just looking. No answers necessary. Just breathing and watching it all. Holding it all. *** It is midnight. And as I sit quietly with these questions, a thought drops in. It's this: the words, "simply celebrate" can seem mighty naïve and meaningless in light of such devastation and loss such as that in Haiti right now. But as I sit here at my desk in my cozy apartment in this gorgeous city of San Francisco, my son sleeping soundly in the room down the hall, I have to ask myself, "What choice do I have?" What choice but to celebrate the life that is inside and all around me: The blood pumping through me, the humanity I feel, the questions swirling around in my soul, the open-hearted generosity as the world seeks ways to help Haiti, the image of doing crosswords with my mom, the soreness in my legs from a night of dancing, the refrigerator full of food, the excitement of a new day tomorrow? When I allow myself to celebrate my joy and to feel great gratitude for everything I have, I feel full. I feel happy. My Zen teacher, Cheri Huber, often uses the phrase, "gratitude wants to give." I ask myself, can I allow myself to be filled with the joy and gratitude of my own life? I have a feeling that if I can, then that well of abundance - as energy, time, or money -can be readily available to others who ask. And the real celebration is having compassion for all, holding it all. You can help the disaster relief efforts in Haiti right now by texting "HAITI" to 90999 to donate $10 to the American Red Cross, or by using this link to make an on-line donation to UNICEF.
Sherry
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Colligan -- founder and spiritual director of 