2 Stamps

I've been having one of those "mad at the world days." I don't have that great of a reason to feel that way--things are slowly falling into place with moving and I have everything I need. Minus daily annoyances, which are unique to no one, I am okay. Except...there is this grating, nagging, voice dragging me down asking me what is the point? What is my purpose? My inability to find that answer is, I'm sure, the source of my poor attitude. Way to continue the cycle, Em.

However, today I needed to do something I've been putting off for a long time. A letter that needed to be sent. A letter that needs to be received. One that was written, sealed and addressed weeks ago, yet lacked stamps and courage. So on my lunch, I sought both.

Upon leaving the post office, I saw a thin man on a bus bench with a cardboard sign reading "HuNGrY." Many of us see these things daily and cannot or will not do anything (I, admittedly, often fall into this category). Today was different. I felt that little voice that sometime comes from inside saying "Yes!" or "No!" or "Now!" And the little voice rapidly became a pressing weight, urging me to help in whatever paltry way I could. I rushed home excited to rustle through my cupboards in hopes of finding something and managed to assemble a grocery sack with what I could offer. Some nonperishable packaged snacks and protein bars, a Hawaiian Punch I knew I'd never drink, a cooked hot dog and cold yogurt--utensils and paper towels included. Not a gourmet meal, but a meal.

I was elated that he was still there when I returned--though perhaps I should have hoped he might have found somewhere cooler, maybe with a real meal inside. He seemed a little startled at first when I ran across the street to give him the bag (no crosswalks, barely any sidewalks in this gem of a town), but accepted it graciously and I ran on my way. I, too, felt a little nervous and locked my car doors upon getting in, part for safety, part due to prejudiced assumptions.

I took a different way home because I felt awkward sitting at the stoplight where he sat, as I would essentially just watch him go through the bag. I didn't want either one of us feeling uncomfortable and, truthfully, didn't want to see any potential scowls at my lunchtime grab bag. As I pulled away, I only caught a glimpse of him in my rear view mirror, going first for the paper towels and wiping the sweat from his face. It is hot; he is hungry; and it'll likely be the same tomorrow.

I don't feel quite comfortable even writing all of this here, just as I think it's equally strange to post on Facebook "I did xx amounts of good deeds today. Look at me!". But since I'm pretty sure this doesn't get read much, I'll leave it be.

My mood is a little less ugly now. I hope that it made some difference on some level. I still don't get what my greater purpose is all about, but maybe these things were part of my purpose today. And so now I get back to work, trying to be grateful for what I do have, taking things day by day, and hopefully listening to that feeling in my gut when it tells me to do something.

Now to drop my letter in the outgoing mail...