It's easy to look out on the world and see those who have more, more opportunities, more money, more time, and sometimes it seems like they have more life. It's easy to believe that they have it all and poor little you, with all your dreams and ambitions are never going to get anywhere simply because you don't have as much as them. It's easy to be angry, to resent others what they have been given by God. It's easy to see my own life as shabby, second rate, and not quite worth as much as others. Do they even know? Do they see that they are gifted beyond yourself? Do they even care? But then, do I?
Do I see that I have been blessed? Has the fact that others are not as priveleged as I escape my knowtice? Am I also blind? These questions lead me to ponder the worth of my own life and what I might give others. This shabby life of mine means something, I was given it for a reason. It is my crucible, it shapes me.
"My Poverty is not complete: It lacks me." - Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, Translated from Spanish by W. S. Merwin
1 comment:
Don't really have anything to say except that I REALLY like this.
Joe
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