What caught my attention last night was a guy that was really egging the scenario and conversation on. I know him. I've dealt with him. He is a compassion thief. He is homeless by choice. Everyone owes him something, he served in the military is his standard claim. I sat and chatted with him for the better part of an hour earlier in 2018, during a time when I had little compassion to spare, even less empathy.
He came up to me and asked if I had a moment for a veteran that honorably served this country. Duh! That was a no brainer for me. Sadly, as he wove his tale of woe for me and assured me that none of the veteran's organizations around would help him and he was drifting on his own, he also "unwove" his story for me. I am a Brat and damn proud of it. I was born into the military, I was raised military, and married not one but two military men. Both of my children come from military proud stock. I have lived my entire life until 2002 being dragged where ever Uncle Sam wanted and needed us to be. My family tree on my mother's side has service back as far as this country has existed. And my dad's side since they immigrated to this country. So please, don't lie to me about your status. I do not have the time, energy or compassion left for people like that.
He hadn't truly served, he was a "troubled youth" given the choice to join or go to jail. He didn't make it through the first week of basic training, because in his words "bad kids always find bad kids and it didn't take me a day to find the ones that would provide me with drugs". He never got past a buzzed haircut and a bunk. He wasn't a veteran.
Yet I found myself wrapped up in his comments leading those folks on. I wanted to reply, point out that he'd been kicked out of boot camp because of drug use - his words not mine. Seems Uncle Sam wasn't thrilled with his bad youthful habits and wouldn't overlook them. I wanted to scream at him for using his lies to detract from the people that truly need help. The ones that life has battered and abused, who through no fault of their own simply couldn't make a transition to being homed.
As he ranted and raved about people not being willing to provide the 3 squares a day that he needed, the beds in the shelter being uncomfortable and needing new mattresses, the library limiting the use of computers and internet time, and what seemed like a laundry list of complaints against humanity. I was sickened.
My compassion ran out. I allowed him to take a shower even though he'd used all his guest passes, as he had no money to pay the guest fee. He'd even asked if I would give him my socks as his were dirty - ummm no, I was wearing pantyhose. A short while later while Hubs and I were enjoying a peaceful lunch together, something far too rare, sitting at the plaza in Downtown we saw him. He and his buddies were sitting there pulling drink after drink, not beer mind you, out of the bags they had stacked around them on the benches. Yet he had no money for a shower or food. It's about choices.
I completely agree that compassion is in short supply in this world. We allow so many things to happen that are horrific, within our power to stop, and yet we don't. People that need help don't get it, children and animals are neglected, abused and even murdered. Our inner cities are a hot mess, the poverty stricken areas in rural areas are ignored. And compassion for ourselves is unheard of.
But why?
Is it because we don't feel like we can make a difference? Is it because people like that man take advantage of the good that other's do? Or is the cause even deeper.
Is it because we've learned to not have compassion for ourselves?
I often find myself in a spot where I do not show myself the same compassion that I would show another. Today is a prime example. I've felt my fibro flaring for a few days now. Lifting my arms has become a struggle, the pain in my muscles when I stand or move is defeating. When even sleeping brings on pain and an inability to handle the weight of a sheet. It's exhausting and demoralizing. I want to curl up in a ball and give up today. I want to show myself compassion. Fill a hot tub with epsom salts, rest until it's in check again.
I won't.
Vacation is over and pain or no pain, it's time to rejoin the world. To put a smile on my face and be present for those that I serve. Because that is what I do, I serve.
Yet if I cannot show compassion for myself, how can I continue to pour from an empty vessel?
Is that something that all of us are starting to feel? On varying levels of course, but at what point are there more compassion thieves than our ability to give that compassion away?
I get tired of hearing no one will hire the homeless. Wrong, it isn't easy to hire a homeless person, it takes work. I know, I've hired them. Only to have each and every one of them walk off the job when they didn't get demands (unreasonable ones) met. The last guy cussed me out and called me names that were unbelievable, simply because I pointed out that he had not finished cleaning a room. Cleaning was his job. Days later he came in and apologized, I was not empathetic to his plight. We all have bad days. The difference is in how you choose to show up. At least in my opinion.
I feel there would be a lot more compassion in this world if not for the compassion thief. The gimme, gimme, gimme person. The one that has made their choices and expects someone else to be responsible for it. I know it would be easier for me.
Each of us has a role to play in this crazy life. And if we are all giving at our greatest capacity I believe it would make an incredible difference. I also believe that each of us needs to start with showing ourselves compassion.
When we take care of ourselves on the most basic of levels, we have the ability to become almost magical. The levels of what we can do are magnified. I believe that when we take care of our own basic needs, we are able to give that back to the world, not because someone has told us to, or demanded it. But because we have a basic human need to take care of each other, to insure that everyone in our pack, tribe, family, community - you pick the word - has an equal opportunity to achieve that same thing. Taking care of themselves.
I know that not everyone will agree with me, I'm okay with that. Because I do not agree with everyone I hear and know. I am allowed to hold my beliefs and I will. And I will work on showing myself a bit more compassion, so that I am able to be a more compassionate person in a world that is sadly lacking in it.
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