I am not settling for less. I am adapting.
There is much to adapt to. A couple weeks past, I went out for pizza with some new friends and was in my element. The neighbourhood and the restaurant were young, artsy, colourful and edgy. It was a pocket of familiarity in a larger sphere of poverty and discomfort. After supper, I was waiting outside the restaurant holding my box of leftovers, satisfied and at peace, and the face of the moment morphed in a second. A black, homeless, older man approached me and made a hand gesture that I assumed signified that he wanted money. I said I hadn't any. Then he made the symbols more concrete, brought his hand to his mouth, his eyes open and seeking comprehension. "Are you hungry?" He nodded fiercely. I didn't think twice. I handed over my two slices of pizza. I saw him walk away, joined by two other grown men. 3 men minus 2 slices of pizza still equals 3 hungry men.
A couple nights past, I had pizza with a group of friends visiting from the States. There were a lot of leftovers. Without thinking twice, two people gave me their extras; I returned home with 1 1/2 pizzas. I gave what I could when I could. And by peeling off my own skin of armor and being more receptive to what this city wants to give me instead of me trying to milk it for my own benefits, I receive more than I bargained for.
1 comment:
Another great post.
Reminds me of a verse from India:
Rahim ve nar mar chuke, je kahu mangan chaee
Unte pahel ve muee, jin mukh niksat nahi
"Says Rahim, he who has to beg is no longer alive/human. But those who refuse were never alive/human to begin with."
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