Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Why do we usually wait for "special" occasions...

to reflect on things? I asked myself this question this morning, having read Lee and Jenny-May's latest blog postings for the umpteenth time, trying to figure out how to post a response or comment. For anyone who reads this and hasn't read their blogs, do so first and see what I'm referring to. In the western world, Christmas is supposed to be one of those "special" occasions, so as it's only a couple of weeks away, I'm going to reflect. And before you think "he's just going to be boasting about how much he's got", you're wrong. I'm actually reflecting on how privileged I am to have things and people in my life, that enrich my life. You might want to get the Kleenex out, as this posting has changed from what I originally planned, this sentence having been added after it was written. As someone who has worked (relatively) hard my entire working life for the things and people I have in my life, having made a few mistakes along the way and having to rebuild as I went along, I started reflecting on how fortunate I actually am compared to some others. Summer is in full swing in southern Africa and while you may think "so what?", we are also in the middle of a drought (or "minor drought" as the fuckwit on SkyNews weather calls it - there's no such thing as a "minor drought", ya twat!!), having had only about 20% of our expected rainfall so far. This means that there are people out there (you've all seen the pictures and news footage) who are struggling to get a drink of water, yet all I have to do is turn my tap on and there it is. There are farmers who are battling to get crops raised to feed these same masses, yet I can leave it to my computer-controlled sprinkler system to ensure that my plants don't die. I can afford, though not extravagantly, to go out to a supermarket and buy groceries, or to a fast food outlet, to keep my overweight gut in "shape" (round is also a shape, you know) and to keep my stomach from grumbling, yet there are those that I see every day on street corners, begging a few coins for something to eat or drink (the latest "scam" is for beggars to drag along a blind person to try and elicit sympathy, and money, from motorists). Those that I can, and being able to judge (I think) a genuine case, I will drop a few coins into their cup, or hand them one of my McDonald's junior cheeseburgers when I'm treating myself (the chips are mine, no way I share those). In winter, I can load an extra duvet onto the bed or turn up the electric blanket a point or two, yet there are those that don't even have a blanket for warmth. I can snuggle up closer to the ever-warm Steph, yet there are those who don't even have someone they can say hello to, let alone hug for a bit of warmth or affection. I have my health, even if I'm a little bit overweight (I blame Steph's great cooking, another privilege), but again everyone has seen the footage of masses of people in food shelters, waiting patiently for morsels, or in filthy make-shift field hospitals, coughing their lungs out or suffering, sometimes in silence, from some or other unmentionable (yet preventable) disease. I have my family, a loving mother, father, brother and sister, daughter, and friends whom I can call up and ask how they're doing, what they're up to, how their lives are going, or to send them a gift on a "special occasion". There are, on the other hand, those out there who don't have anyone in their lives, no-one to speak to and with no-one wanting to speak to them, alone and lonely, no-one to hand them a gift to unwrap and see the smile on their face. I'm sitting here (supposedly working) in my house which is currently in a state of upheaval while we have an extra lounge added to increase our style of living, with a partially-leaky roof over my head (due to the ineptitude of the builders), but I have a roof over my head at night to shelter me from storms, heat and cold. Meanwhile, somewhere in the world, there are those that live under bridges, shelter in cardboard boxes in shop doorways, or tin shacks in overcrowded townships, even those that don't even have that. I have a car that I can get into, drive to do whatever I have to, yet there are those who have to walk many kilometres to carry water back to their homes, to be repeated daily. I can pick up a book, look at the insert and decide if it's "worth reading", yet there are those that cannot read or write. I can walk to the fridge, powered by electricity, take out something to eat or drink, yet there are those who still light up their homes by candlelight, those that don't know what the hell a fridge is. I have a job, as frustrating, mundane or unexciting as it may be at times, that pays my water and lights bills every month, allows me to buy my groceries, pays for my car and fuel, extends the roof over my head, keeps my health (and gut) in shape, buys my books to read, and countless other privileges I could mention. There are those that don't have a job, or one that enables them to barely scrape a living above the bread line. So, why do we wait for "special occasions" to reflect? I don't know, but the main thing is to reflect...and be eternally thankful for what we have. I am... So also, to respond to Lee and Jenny-May's postings, there are special people that, even though I may never meet them, I know have enriched my life by our interaction and I am privileged to have that. You two ladies are two such people...thank you.

1 comment:

jenny said...

Kleenex all round then! I don't consider myself special...silly, slightly mad & a little out of the ordinary but not special...friends can be made and found in all places. I count both you and Lena in that bracket. I am lucky that I have Ross on my doorstep so at least see one of my 4 blog buddies regularly...but I have no doubt the time will come when I will meet both you and Lena in the flesh...be it next year or twenty years I look forward to it!