During my day's meditation (sitting on the toilet, holding one cat firmly in my lap, raking a fine-tooth comb through said cat's glossy fir, depositing squirming flea in sink full of soapy water by my side) - my thoughts drifted away from the life-cycle of the flea and towards more sobering news I had heard on the radio this morning. Apparently there was a stampede in a crowd of women and children in Karachi, Pakistan, who had gathered to receive a donation of free flour, and nearly twenty of those women and children were killed. This news would normally leave me with the weight of knowing there are people all over the world who must wait in line for food, for whom free flour is worth competing for with hundreds of others. This morning I had just opened a "cheap" bag of flour that I intended to use not for baking bread to feed my family, but to turn into a play-toy for my creative children, and the guilty pang of our privilege ran through me and then stayed in the corner for the morning.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Flour and Counting Fleas - I mean Blessings
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3 comments:
Amen to that.
Although... let me just say "when I began my meditation on the toilet.." cracked me up.
Thought that was pretty bold, 'til I read the rest of the sentence.
Ha! :)
indeed, i feel ya Debbie. we are rich in comparison to those poor women and children...
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