Monday, November 28, 2005

hope

i volunteered at a soup kitchen this past thanksgiving. it was a really good experience. i decided not to go home for the holiday to save money and avoid travel-related craziness, but i was feeling lonely, so a friend suggested i volunteer somewhere. after calling around to a bunch of places that had plenty of help already, i ended up going to the soup kitchen i had helped out at a couple of weeks ago. i saw some familiar faces -- namely kevin, the guy in charge -- and met some really great people: mark, a 30-something guy working in publicity for the yale-new haven hospital who volunteers every thanksgiving; rocco, eddie, john, and the other guys working back in the kitchen, who were basically there because their "buddy" is a generous and charitable person and organizes it every year (they were all friends from high school, which really got me thinking, but i'll save that for anothe post); another john, who seemed like a born-again or a twelve-stepper but was infectiously friendly and positive.

there was a brief sermon before the noon-time meal. just prior, i had been going back into the kitchen to get something, and i got stuck behind this old guy in a suit with a cane. i remember thinking to myself "he doesn't need a cane! it's all for show!" as he walked slowly but adeptly without leaning at all on the cane. he arrived in the kitchen just before me and croaked, "matches! we need matches!" in a somewhat rude manner. anyways, he ended up being one of the pastors. the other pastor gave the sermon, which began with him lighting a thin string on fire, which quickly burned out, and then a candle, which not surprisingly remained lit for the remainder of the sermon. he went on to talk about hope, how the kind of energy needed to make it through this rough world was the kind symbolized by the candle -- long-burning, steady, consistent -- and not that of the string -- quick, emphemeral, spent too soon. i got distracted by one of the "guests" who either had a short attention span or didn't agree with his message, but i got the basic gist of the somewhat trite and cliched speech: burn steady. it made me realize that my flame had been a little weak lately. to the point of being out at times, frankly. depression will do that to you, like plopping a wet log on the fire: dampens your spirit, makes it hard to keep going.

later, i gave a ride to a woman (who had been working at but could have been a visitor to the meal) over to a restaurant that was giving away clothes, toiletries, and other personal items. i was just kinda hanging out while she looked at things (she'd occasionally encourage me to try things on or take this or that, but i politely declined each time), talking to the workers there. this homeless man was also apparently working there (he had a name tag on) and he was talking about how he had been there until 2am last night helping to set up, and then back at 8am this morning. someone asked him where he had slept. "on the street!" was his enthusiastic but not bitter response. apparently, shelters charge $8 to spend the night, money he didn't have or wasn't willing to spend on a shelter. i don't remember what happened just then, but before i knew it, he was making a joke and laughing about something. this man had slept 6 hours out in the cold (it had snowed the night before) and had probably worked close to 12 hours in the past 18, he was homeless, and i imagine his future was rather bleak, and yet he still had enough hope to be joking and smiling.

it made my situation seem pathetic -- or rather it made me seem pathetic for even thinking about being feeling sorry for myself. i had my health; i had warm clothes; i had the means to buy soap and toothpaste and shampoo; i had a roof over my head; i had a family (which i chose not to go see this holiday); i had dinner plans with friends later that night; i have a good education and am in the process of getting a better one. my future looked pretty damn good. and yet i still struggle to see the hope in it, to keep my candle burning. is it this damn disease, this raincloud of depression that fogs over my view, or am i simply a spoiled brat? do i expect too much out of this modern life and expect it to come easily? why do i dwell on the negative instead of seeing the positive? would i have been smiling and joking like this homeless man, or would i have been resentful and grumpy for working long hours and sleeping out in the snow?

Thursday, November 24, 2005

construction

i feel like i'm building my life -- who i am, what i do, where i'm going -- one small piece at a time. where i'm at today is determined in part by a brick i laid down long ago...and many more that lay above and below. it's hard to keep track of the overall structure when day in and day out -- every minute -- i am making choices about how to build my life. i know i should pick that sturdy piece of wood over there, but it's so much more work to install, and besides this piece of styrofoam is so pretty...stuff like that.

i'm afraid of what it will look like when it's all done. i have no plans, no blueprints. i've never built a building before. i have no experience. and i'm afraid of heights, scared to look down at what i've already done; mistakes i've made, what to do differently next time. what if i don't like what i've done? where it's headed, what it's shaping out to be? will i have the courage to start over? tear it all down? it's hard. i'd rather just focus on the piece in front of me. it's easier and less scary that way.

other people's buildings look so nice...so easy to construct. i'm envious. but maybe it's just the facade. maybe underneath they're struggling with the pieces too, and how they fit together. or maybe i think more like a contractor than they do -- they're more of the construction workers, only concerned with the placement of I beams and the soldering of metal. while me, i'm worried about going over budget and whether the final product will withstand a violent storm. i don't know.

choices. bricks. lego pieces. jenga. yeah, maybe the life building analogy is better represented by jenga than by a brick house. you lay down pieces but they're not fixed together so that later you can come back and move them around. but move them too much or in the wrong way and it all comes crashing down. but it's easy enough to build back up...