I was lying in bed, literally 'counting my blessings' and the whole subject matter took hold in my head. I do have so much to be grateful for and am 'blessed' - in the most non-religious use of the word - in so many ways that the list is a long one. What do you say for 'blessed' without thinking 'bible' and 'beatitudes'? Luck? It's not that is it? Fortunate? I suppose I am 'fortunate'... I'll stick with blessed.
It all really started with me moaning, to be fair. Moaning about feeling stiff of a morning before I get up, moaning about not wanting to move into the cold bathroom from my cosy bed. All about nothing, basically. I'd read something only yesterday about 'counting your blessings', (always a good thing to do at regular intervals I think?) but also saying to 'stop being addicted to comfort' which had actually stopped me in my tracks because... feck that, if there's anything I *want* to be addicted to, it's comfort! I'm no ascetic type - I like being comfortable, warm, well-fed, well-clothed, no-hardship-whatsoever if-you-please, no illness, no money-worries, nothing trying in the least... tell me who doesn't and I'll show you a crazy person!
So there was me moaning, about absolutely nothing at all, and my head was suddenly taken over with visions of wars. Of course, the one in Ukraine is headlining right now, and if that's not worrying you, you need help - but there is always conflict somewhere. Somewhere where folks are anything BUT comfy. And there are degrees of that too.
My complaints are shocking! I don't even have to get up to go to work! I'm pandered to left and right by a man who does all the shopping and cooking, although let's be fair, I'd do it if he didn't - although even then I'd have nothing to complain about. We can afford almost anything we need and lots we just plain want. My bed is heated! We've had the health scares, but we're grand and we can reach hospital within 20 mins any time we're not. Nobody from anywhere is bombing us, or threatening to (right now! Fingers crossed and all that). Neither I nor anyone in my family is sleeping on the street having lost our homes, nor are we fleeing our home to pastures new that probably won't take us in. We're none of us carrying all we have left, in a rucksack nor pushing grandma in a wheelbarrow to reach some place of safety. Basically, no worries!
So it all got me wondering, where is the border. If you are safe in NL (or Scotland, or wherever you are) but have no money coming in and don't know how you'll see the end of the month (for whatever reason) are you allowed to moan then or should you also think of folks worse off than you? Because, while that's not me, there are plenty who are in dire straits who surely find it hard to sympathise with others. Their house is nice, they can have a hot shower, but then, others cannot, so what's their beef? Yet others are on the streets... no war, no bombs, but have nothing, even less than those with 'no money coming in' and way less than me, moaning about leaving my warm bed of a morning.
The degrees of misery, versus comfort, are confusing. Should the guy that slept under a bridge at minus 3 last night concern himself with Afghanis who don't yet have asylum and are plagued by the Taliban? Should I? Well yes, I should, but my point is, I'm not really the one that can directly help! I can't even help the guy selling the homeless paper with more than a couple of bucks! That doesn't even assuage the guilt that I can't help him or her... not really help.
I've said somewhere before, I'm going to stop whinging because, I do know, I have nothing to moan, complain or whinge about. Tell myself that though when I get up out of a chair, stiff from yesterday's long walk. Groooaan! I mean, imagine if I'd done that 13 km trailing a suitcase, with a kid on one hip, with no prospect of... See, I have to stop it because it is, it is 'all relative'. How can you not moan when your back hurts? It's not *how* it came to be painful but the fact that it is! No?
First World Problems, those're mine. I truly am blessed and I do know it. So I'm thinking it's a personal thing. Personal as in relation to that person. My misery is someone else's idea of luxury. That someone else's misery is yet another person's idea of heaven. We can't all be responsible for everyone. We can try and ease another's burden when we can, and not shirk that responsibility when we are given the opportunity, but, d'you know what it is? You can only spread yourself so thin.
I could do with spreading myself a tad thinner though I'm sure. How about you?
