I read parts of the paper with my coffee. Glanced at the headlines about the tragedy in Haiti. I sent money to the World Aid Organization.
I exercised with my trainer. I am listening to the Buona Vista Social Club on my CD player.
I read the paper again - read the horror stories about Haiti, so very many. I feel like the contribution I made earlier today doesn't matter at all. I'm glad I did it, know it's important that I did, grateful I can, but it just feels so pitiful an attempt at "help" given the vastness of the destruction and pain.
It doesn't make sense. Well it does. I was born in a good place, at a good time. By virtue of that I don't have to suffer. I have the power to make choices. We may think everyone does - but when faced with the horrors of an earthquake, and the stifling poverty, we're not talking choices, we're talking survival. Sometimes not even that. I can't even imagine it. I really can't. I look at the pictures, I read the stories, I burst into tears. Yet here I sit, a million miles away from that suffering, I might as well be on another planet. Whatever tears I shed today for my fellow human beings, whatever compassion I feel for them, I hope it puts a dent in the karmic fabric of the world and provides some respite.
And everyone I know, every single person I know, friend, family, customer, colleague, none of us suffer like that. Be grateful. In this case it is not relative. So I am asking you, please, help however you can.