There are seconds when I pause and take in the depth of my agency, the status I am afforded simply by being born. There are aspects of my personhood that make life difficult, but the power of race and social class rarely allow my targetships full oppressive reign. Despite my awareness, those seconds occasionally render me immobile. I am overwhelmed by the comfort of my home, the stocked refrigerator, the working plumbing, the baseboard heating, and the locking doors.
More often those seconds propel me to act. I make lunches. I overcome my tendency to introversion and take my little karmic offerings to the alleys and parks throughout Olympia. I am met with caution, until the lunches ease faces into genuine smiles. Sometimes my items are refused, or are accepted only as a business transaction dependent on my ability to barter.
My participation in GISHWHES (Team Bobulated) recently compelled me to hand out homemade lunches in Sylvester Park. I didn’t feed everyone. I could make a hundred lunches a day and it wouldn’t be enough. Even with the numerous local organizations (SideWalk, StandUp For Kids, Thurston County Food Bank, and GRuB) it never seems to be enough…not enough food, not enough hands to help, not enough time. I do what I can, and when I need to do more the earth has my back. This year its giving me one extra second, and sometimes that’s all I need.
Be kind. Pass it on.