I get annoyed, even though I don’t say anything to the offenders. I mumble about them from time to time, or offer snippets of the issues in conversation, but I don’t say anything to them. I have found it often to be a waste of breath. The only thing that keeps bringing out my complaints loud and long is the dog allowed to run lose endangering my parents. The neighbors don’t understand that my parents are up in age, all it would take it a slight bump and they would fall. In falling they would be injured. Being injured by this dog is not something they should have to worry about. So I gripe and will continue as long as necessary.

If that is the worst of my complaints though, do I really have anything to complain about? I think not.

Instead I sit here, considering my blessings. I sit here, knowing I am safe. While it is true that no one is fully immune from being robbed, no house or building fully safe. For the most part, we have been spared even as I practice not leaving anything out of value. Even as I check security lights and outside locks. It isn’t out of fear, but more out of habit. More out of prevention so as not to deal with the after effects.

When it gets dark, I can sit outside in my back yard without worry. Other than concerns over snakes that might travel through, or the annoyance of mosquitoes, I have no worries. Racoon, possum, cats, deer, owl and bats pass by. But I can sit out there on that swing, without fear. There is no one to bother or threaten me. I’m down here, off the main road, outside of any town, secluded and safe. I can wander the woods behind my house, follow the creek or sit beside the pond. I can watch for or in the least, listen to, the wildlife. Animal not human. I can tend my garden and harvest the results of my labor. I am blessed, I am grateful, yet, I feel guilty.

How is it I, though not wealthy by man’s standards, am wealthy still. Why, do I deserve such? 

When you look at what I have, the peace and security alone is priceless. Add the fact I have a home, I have a car, I have family and friends. I don’t have a lot of money, but all my bills are paid and we don’t go hungry. Our clothing though not designer, is not worn into rags. When you look at much of the world today, we are wealthy. Yes, we struggled and worked hard for what we have, but so have so many others. How is it, we have this gift?  Though my true wealth isn’t the material things we have. All of this will fade away, it is temporary, but it is much more than many others have. I look at things going on around me though, and my heart breaks and I feel guilty. Inside I weep for those struggling and fighting to merely survive.

Since I have been working harder and more diligently on my blog, I have befriended a great diversity of people. Their writing styles, their blogs sites, their life styles an amazing variety. They live in an assortment of countries, are of different ages and educational levels. Their backgrounds as diverse as the topics covered. Many, are struggling. The pandemic didn’t help, but it is more than that. A lot more. I have read the words spread out across the screen, black on white, and felt the suffering. Though I am reading words, some simple, others elegant, and they say that you can’t really know the emotions intended simply by reading, but you can. You really can, if you are one sensitive enough, empathic enough, caring enough.  For me, I read their words, and I feel the fear they felt as they dealt with a confrontation. As they fled from a bad situation. As they stood up to a bully. I feel the fear as they listen to an argument next door, see the results of an act of violence.

 I read of the noise, the crush of people, the arrogance and ignorance of some and the animalistic actions of one strung out. I see the photos of cities that seem to go on forever. How loud is the cries coming from the people within?

The homeless who seek only to survive, the homeless who seek to do better. Struggling, fighting each other and the system so bogged with red tape and too many people in need. I see the reports of people who have lost members of their family to violence on the streets or acts of road rage. Children lost, stolen by the hands of evil.Their lives cut short, while those who loved them scream their agony and heartache. I feel the struggles of those in need of food, clothing, keeping their home. Any semblance of pride, gone. Need and a spirit of self preservation tramping it underfoot. Humility and desperation taking its place.

The pain of the many, the immeasurable number of people, joining together and crying out their suffering. The sound creating waves in the sky as it travels. Seeking those with caring hearts. Seeking those with compassion. Seeking those who attempt in any and every way possible, to assist and answer the needs.

How does one stand atop their ivory tower and ignore the pain? How does one turn away, close their eyes to not see? How does one turn away, blocking the hearing, silencing the sounds of sorrow? How does one walk among the masses of people, and not see those who hunger and thirst for just enough to survive? Who hunger, to be looked upon as a human, deserving to be treated as such.

 I sit here, needing a moment away from the words to calm a hurting heart. I can climb the tallest tower and shout to the world, are you paying attention? Do you not see? How can you worry more about trivial things? How can something that you will have forgotten about five minutes from now, override the needs of those who suffer? How can you be so angry over a food order not right or having to wait an extra minute or two for customer service? When did issues of race, social status, political status, financial status take precedence over humanity?

I feel guilty, because of what I have, knowing there are many who have nothing. So many who would be overjoyed at clean socks and a fast food burger. I feel guilty, because I have read the article about homeless tent encampments  being torn down, the people made to leave. Leave, even as they have nowhere to go, and now the only shelter they had, destroyed. No, this was not the best of worlds. No, this was not the safest of worlds. It was all they had at that moment, their only world, but someone wanted it cleared. Someone wanted it gone. Someone had no answers as to how to take care of those they shoved aside.

A stray dog showed up at my parent’s home recently. Over three hundred people helped find that dog’s family.

But we turn away, not wanting to see the homeless, the struggling, the ones afraid, alone, hurting. We seek answers for the over population of pets. For the pets who get lost we work together, join together to search. Are people, not more worthy than dogs? Even with all our faults, all our issues, all our struggles, we are worthy.

It isn’t just an issue of homeless. There are those who have homes, yet struggle. They have physical or mental health issues. They are up in age and in need of assistance in the day to day things. There are those who are lonely, who are grieving, who are unemployed or employed in difficult situations. Those trapped in refugee camps. Those in battle torn areas. The list could go on forever.

It isn’t one type pain, it is all pain. It is growing due to so many who seek the distraction. There are too many who prefer to ignore. There are those, who do not have the compassion or heart to care.

Then there are those who do. They do all they can to provide food, to assist with payment of utilities about to be turned off. They provide clothing or tutoring, or what ever help that are able or able to gather. Because they do have the heart. They do not cannot ignore the suffering, because they hear the pain, they feel the pain, they understand. They understand, what they have been taught and instructed, they understand how the heart is to act.

I feel guilty, because all I know to do at this moment is write. To bleed words to the page to try and remind others, that those who are suffering, are just as human as anyone and everyone else. They too deserve a safe place, They too deserve food and clothing and security. They too, deserve to not be afraid. That I do understand.

About rebecca s revels

A writer, a photographer, a cancer survivor. An adventurer of the mild kind, a lover of the simple pleasures such as long walks and chocolate. A Christian unashamed of my faith and a friend who is dependable and will encourage readily. Author of three self published books with more waiting to find their way to paper. An advocate of good things, a fighter against wrongs.
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6 Responses to Understanding

  1. Dia Jae says:

    I got annoyed too. Another reason to get off FB. For me, anyway. You shouldn’t feel guilty, but proud.

    • In all honesty, face book has become more of a way to draw attention, or hope to draw attention to my blog more than anything else. I’m here more than there. Because, well there..is sinking.

  2. Madhavi_J97 says:

    I feel this Rebecca. I have felt this. I suffered and suffering, at times I make peace with myself, I feel how much pain that other people hold in their hearts. I wish if they atleast know how to try to make peace, accept and not bury or cling to their emotions when times they can do nothing else.

    • Which is true. We all need to make peace with ourselves. Once we have come to an understanding of our own emotions, then hopefully we can reach out to assist those around us.

  3. Yes! Peace is priceless! Good for you!

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