Thanksgiving Thoughts

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."

These words, spoken by Plato, just seem especially apt on a holiday such as today. It just rings very true that every single person you come across, no matter how charmed his/her life may superficially appear, is undoubtedly struggling in one way or another. When you frame this notion in this manner, I think it makes it easier to be forgiving of the transgressions of others. We are all doing the best we can.

Although, I realize the focus of a day like today is not on our "problems" but rather on all of our good fortune.

And we all have a lot of good fortune. I know we all have many things to be grateful for--just as surely as I know we all have struggles in our lives.

But this idea of everyone fighting a hard batttle was especially visceral for me yesterday, and inspired me to write this entry.

I work part-time for a consulting firm. Many of our clients are non-profit organizations that are in need of some business guidance, and we often partner with these groups in order to increase their fundraising capacities. Yesterday, I spent most of the morning at the offices of one such client.

This particular organization is a homeless shelter and soup kitchen. I had never been there before. My time yesterday was spent in the sequestered quarters of the administration offices working with a few of the team members and my boss.

Just before noon, I announced my departure; I had to get to the grocery store to pick up our turkey and a few other last minute food items for our Thanksgiving dinner.

I exited the back of the building to find myself amidst hordes of homeless people who were lining up for lunch at the soup kitchen door.

Do you have moments in your life when you just feel like a complete and utter ignoramus?

This was one such moment for me.

I was hurrying away from a homeless shelter, where people were anxiously awaiting what might be their one hot meal of the day, to pick up a turkey that was far larger than the needs of my family, in order to cook a grandiose and elaborate meal. I had been so excited about the holiday, and yet I wondered suddenly at my frivolity, ignorance, and hypocrisy.

As I walked towards my car I felt guilty, I felt a little fearful, and I felt very confused.

I felt guilty because I lead a comfortable and privileged life, by most accounts. I have never had to wonder where I might be sleeping at night or how I will pay for lunch. But I am also just a human being, just like these homeless people, and yet my struggles seem far less drastic or sad somehow. Why is that?

My brother might say it is because we are all handed specific hardships in our life because they are the ones we did not master in our last life. I like this concept because it neatly ties up the issue, but I am not sure I buy it. And, in any case, such a notion did little to assuage my feelings of guilt.

I felt fearful because I was clearly not one of them. I walked to my own car, dressed in my work clothes of skirt and heels, a diamond glistening on both hands, and immediately thought that they might want something from me. I feared, as a woman and as an outsider, that these poor hungry people might want to harm me for having what they do not have. All that being said, perhaps it is obvious that this fear was also tied up with guilt.

Finally, I felt confused because I still wanted to go pick up my turkey. And I did. Was that wrong? Would a better person have taken the money used for the turkey and the other groceries and donated it to the shelter, and then made do with what was at home for the Thanksgiving dinner? Would a better person not have carried on with her day as normal, after being faced with poverty?

Of course this confusion was tied up in both guilt and fear. The guilt as in: "How could I walk away and not DO something?" and the fear that perhaps I am really not that good, or evolved, of a person after all.

So as these feelings tumbled around in my head, I looked up and smiled at a few people in the line. I said hello and was greeted in return with vacant stares, subtle nods, and several kind smiles. When I was getting into my car, I made eye contact with one final homeless man. He looked at me, obviously knowing that I had emerged from the building that was about to serve him lunch, and he spoke to me.

He smiled broadly and said "thank you."

He had no idea what I may or may not have done in that building. And as it turns out, my role was hardly one that impacted his lunch yesterday, but hopefully will impact the longevity and viability of the shelter in the future.

But that is not really the point.

The point is that this man is clearly one who is fighting a hard battle, to go back to Plato's words. He is doing so in a more obvious way than most of us--I think it is safe to say that many people reading this blog do not face the sames kinds of hardships that this man faces. Yet he looked at me with kindness and seemed genuinely happy to be able to express his gratitude.

So today, on this day designated to give thanks, I cannot help but feel grateful for my encounter with this homeless man. He was not judging my position or resenting my rushing off just as lunch hour was getting going. Instead, he wanted to say thank you because he knew that whatever happens in that building has helped his life: I came out of the building and therefore I deserved a thank you.

The logic is simple, and yet I so often become tied up in specifics.

Now did I deserve a thank you? Arguable. But I took it.

I took it because I think he needed to say it. And in my haze of feeling guilty, fearful, and confused, I needed, more than anything at that moment, to hear it.

However "small" my problems may be, I think that man saw me yesterday and recognized my hard battle in that moment and I am beyond grateful that a homeless man demonstrated to me the power of giving thanks.

Happy Thanksgiving!