So I've had this horrible knack as of late of beginning blogs and not really finishing them, so my draft folder is starting to mount up to my standards, but in my defense, these last two weeks have been chaotic as all hell. I feel like I've been living the famous statement from Picasso that says, "from destruction comes creation."
Lately I've had to refocus myself on a lot of levels. After two to three months, I've finally gotten my place back to myself and it's been a matter of shifting life priorities and such to get back to my routine. I've taken about a two week hiatus from the bars lately (ok I fibbed. Went out one night but shhhhhh! Don't tell anyone. ;-) ) just to regroup myself. Took a hard blow recently that struck me on a bunch of levels, but I've learned something quite important: if you ever feel down and at a loss, help others to realize that your situation isn't as bad as you think it is. And so I did; I started to help out at a soup kitchen last week.
Volunteerism is something I've been wanting to pursue these last few months, yet I could never find a place to help at and I just made a million excuses for it. Oh I'm going out tonight. Blah, I don't want to wake up early. Etc... But in all honesty, I'm glad I'm doing it. Last week I went with a good girlfriend of mine and we had an absolute blast!! It's amazing the bonding that can be done rolling sporks and setting up cups. I spent that morning after my sporking session serving soup to the homeless and in need. It was an experience indeed! The scent of the kitchen was filled with happiness and smell of an amazing stew, while the cafeteria filled with the smells of need, abandonment and longing. Last week it was probably 100 people who showed up, while this week alone was filled with a cue of over 200 people. 200 people may not seem like a lot for a city of over 5 million, but it's not the numbers that matter, but the happiness that you bring to someone else... even if it's just temporary.
The first day I volunteered I was told such sweet things by some of the people who I served. I was told by one who stared me straight in the eyes and with a gentle smile told me I have a great personality. I really took that to heart, but at the same time, in the back of my mind I was thinking, "what do you know about me." It wasn't out of malice, but moreso from the point of view that I'm no saint and not really deserving of that statement. Yet after thinking about it, I look back at that moment and smile, because even if it was just a complete stranger who told me that, his statement came from complete sincerity. He didn't have to know me and I know him, to see the short connection we shared. That one simple action of ladling soup into a cup and saying good morning to someone was all that this person needed to smile; I saw this and continue to see it every time I go.
The lines fill up with a majority of people considered by "us" as social parasites, but in the end, they are just like us. They breath, they hurt, they walk and they seek kindness like anyone else. Others in line may not be poor but seek a sense of community and whether or not they come there for food or a sense of belonging, everyone leaves smiling, knowing that for atleast a moment, there are people who care about them.
Every time I've stopped by the help, my problems and trepidations are put on hold because I know that deep down, things can be worse, even if we don't see that right away. I've come across some people in this soup kitchen that have absolutely nothing, but a simple smile and a grateful heart.... sometimes I wonder if it's us or them who are truly poor.
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