Can you feel that? How can you not? How can you not feel the cries of the suffering?
I sit here, sheltered in a rural area, away from the issues of cities or even the smaller towns. The woods that my home sits in, sheltering it in a sense.Hiding it in another. I do have neighbors, and at times I get annoyed, but it is so mild compared..so mild compared to the cries of the suffering.
I never thought of, and actually scoffed at the idea of being called privileged, but I guess I am. I have a home. I have family who love me. I have a car and friends. I have food on my table, clothes on my back. I guess, in that sense, I am privileged.
I wrote this morning about walls and how we build emotional walls around us in attempts to protect us from potential pain. But those walls, are also built by the ones who not only don’t want, but refuse to hear the cries.The agonizing, gut wrenching screams of those in pain that most have never faced or felt. Those screams, may be vocal. They may echo off the walls of any nearby building, reverberate under the bridges, sound like a wave traveling down some back wood gully. Sounding at times more animal than human in the suffering. Those screams, may be silent. Afraid to cry out, afraid to draw attention. Afraid. Yet screaming, begging. See me, hear me, help me.
Have you built a wall, so that as you move about, you can ignore those you pass? Is it easy, to avert your eyes, so you do not see. Do you hum a fanciful tune, so you do not hear their pleas?
How high is your wall? How thick? That you can not feel the pain that flows from the heart of the suffering?Can you not feel their hunger? Not only for food, not only for drink, but deeper. The hunger for acknowledgement. The hunger for attention. The hunger for acceptance. The hunger, for peace in their heart and soul.
How high and thick is your wall, that you can’t feel that need? The hunger for a safe place, a quiet place, a place where they can do more than simply survive. If that is what you have it labeled.
Can you feel that? The pain that surrounds the body of one addicted. The pain that fills the soul of one selling their body, because of what ever reason. The pain of the one abused, abandoned, sold. How high and thick is that wall, that you can’t begin to see, or feel the pain?
Do you feel the right to cast stones? Toss out accusations, reason, made up beliefs due to something you heard someone say sometime ago? Do you dare to spit out the words about getting a job, to those without a home, without a needed mailing address, without the right clothes to go for interviews? Do you think you are better, because you merely think, without actually saying?
How cold and unfeeling has your heart become, behind that wall? Do you hear it? Can you hear it? Can you feel the pain, of the suffering?Do you dare see them? Reach out to them? Befriend them, offering what help they will accept? Do you stand behind your wall, speaking of the need, but not feeling the pain that would drive you to action?
Do you see the signs? You see the signs. But do you feel the pain? The loss of pride that places one on the side of the road? Not all are scammers. Who are we to make judgements?
This world has gone mad. The pandemic has cost so many so much.There are ways to help. Even ways that cost nothing but time…and a change of heart. Can you feel that?