perspective

A couple of years ago, a friend asked me what I'd want to have if I were stuck on a deserted island. I thought long and hard about that, and answered that, aside from fresh water, food, shelter and sunscreen, all I'd really need is a pen and a notebook. I don't really *need* a lot to survive.

The answer changes slightly when the question shifts to "what would you save if your house were on fire?" Assuming my children and husband were safe, I would want to try to save as many of my scrapbooks and photo albums as I could. There's a bunch of art that I would hate to lose, and lots of other things I would be sad about, but if tragedy struck, I could live without most of what I have.

But these questions are just hypothetical for me. Realistically, I am in no true danger of ever having to face either of these circumstances.

And then an Earthquake happens, and it puts everything into perspective.

When an unspeakably horrific tragedy befalls an entire nation of people, something like 30 days of "nothing' just seems ridiculous. Honestly, when compared to the fact that millions of people have no access to clean water or food or necessary medical care, the fact that I've "given up" little luxuries is kind of absurd. My "nothing" still involves fresh water, food whenever I'm hungry, access to medical care if I need it, and a home to protect me from the elements. That is so much more than so many others have.

Guilt is something I've never really had much use for. From my perspective, guilt is a pretty useless feeling to waste time and energy on. However, from time to time in my life, I've had to work through feelings of guilt so that I can transform those feelings into some sort of action.

When I was a teenager and first truly confronted the fact that I am afforded a number of privileges simply because I was born with a certain skin tone, I grappled with guilt. It can be a paralyzing feeling. But if you're paralyzed, how can you actually *do* anything to solve the problem?

Now, after viewing some of the destruction, and hearing some of the personal accounts of the devastation in Haiti, I'm struggling to find the balance between enjoying the things that I have (and have worked hard to gain) and giving as much as I can (to help improve the lives of others). I just don't know where that line is. It's very murky territory.

I've used this opportunity to really illustrate the importance of giving to the twins. They're both very interested in what's going on in Haiti, and have decided that they want to donate some of their own money to "people who don't have food or water or houses or doctors". Thankfully there are lots of fantastic organizations dedicated to disaster relief that make it really easy to donate.

We're still plugging along on our 3o days, and still haven't really felt tempted to spend any additional money. In fact, I think we may be continuing the experience through the month of February (in addition to our whole foods experiment).

I've often wondered whether I'm sharing too much since I took the blog private. Who could possibly care about all these mundane details of my life? But then I heard this quote today and thought it apropos: "Nothing is ever too much. This is life. This is how we live. And we share it to survive it."