Recently my last post raised quite the controversy as to how I was currently living my life. Accused of opting out because I spoke of the release of tired goods and succumbing to high fashion, things that were considered nonspiritual in nature by particular individuals. I relish in what people have to bring to the table, their individualistic perception of "what is" in said matters. This particular diatribe however, had me thinking about a life event currently occurring in another category of my life. That which was forming right next store at my neighbors house. For some who know me well know that I live in a historic district. A beautiful little well kept neighborhood of beings ranging in the average age of 50+. Retired, vacation homes in Europe and pleasantly quaint to converse with. But with that perfect setup comes also the unexpected. As they say, "there is always that house" and yes I happen to live next to it. You know the one. The black sheep of the neighborhood with the dying grass and the peeling paint. Not being much for conflict or confrontation I have always been more then cordial. As the other neighbors called the city to have this house cited for trash cans left out pass their time allowance, overgrown vegetation and parked cars left on the street; I carried on minding my matters.
Recently they inherited some family members of theirs experiencing hard times. These financial hard times has made for the family members to take to living out of their car. As these neighbors slept tucked in peaceful slumber in their warm house their offspring slept cramped in the confines of their car. Finally pushed beyond my own set limits I became irate. Mostly because I was embarrassed to have this unsightly display demonstrated before me. Losing all compassion of what these individuals must be experiencing I ranted and raved over what I had to experience. But what did I have to experience? Truly nothing. It was I who was having the problem with this demonstration of truth before me. It was I who's eyes looked at this situation as something that was being done to me. It was I who felt that I had been wronged in some way as I watched these individuals wake up each morning pulling articles out of their suitcase in order to prepare for the day. It was also I who could not understand what it would feel like to experience such set circumstances. Or to have family who wouldn't take me in if I was in a bind. No I couldn't understand because I have never been without. Nor in such a dire situation where I didn't have emotional, financial or physical help standing behind me. I fortunately have been blessed beyond belief. Even when hard times were trying, I always had the support of family, community and friends.
This recent week I finally made the conscious decision to call the police after giving this couple 2 weeks to improve their circumstances. As I planned for this past Wednesday to be the deadline, I woke up to see that not only was this couple living in the confines of their car but so were their two small children. Children who ran around the yard with glorious smiles on their faces everyday. Children who were clean, fed and hair perfectly maintained. I paused as I watched them in their pj's dragging their baby blankets up to the neighbors house this particular morning. In that exact moment I broke down and cried. I cried for them. I cried for the selfishness that I was feeling within my heart. I cried that it took me wanting to help others to go outside of my own neighborhood in order to build a foundation only to have those in need living beside me. I cried that here I was worried about what people thought of me, when these individuals were just focusing on surviving. I cried more then anything that I never looked to see before this particular day that there were children living in the car.
So rather it be right, wrong or indifferent I decided not to call. Not to have this families circumstance become hindered more then it already was by my complicated hands. I chose that although the site is unfavorable to watch, I would rather see them all together then pulled apart. I have changed my perception and now instead of waking up each morning annoyed, I bask in the glow of the youth who greet me by my car before I leave for my morning run. I may not have children but to experience the wonders through child eyes is a remarkable blessing. Their innocence and youth of spirit is overwhelming. Their gentleness and sharing nature is pure perfection. It is us who become jaded by the social norms of what is, should be's and worldly pressures. It is us who make the simple complicated and the gentle rigid.
Spiritualism isn't about being perfect in every set situation and circumstance. Its about seeing and embracing when you are perfectly flawed. Its about seeing the balance of the light as well as the dark and making allowances for it. It is about understanding yourself better for who you are, where you are and where you want to be. It is about allowing and accepting. Most importantly allowing and accepting those judgements you caste against yourself.
~M
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