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Day 338 – The End Of Suffering

July 4, 2014

Good morning World,

It’s July 4th. Independence Day. A day off of work. I wrote a blog and now I’m starting over. It’s like sometimes, I need to do a warm-up writing to get all the surface things off of my mind, and then I can go a little deeper.

I don’t know what the future holds. I got a notice about the job I was waiting to hear from. I scored high on the test, but not high enough to guarantee that I’ll be called for an interview. So now I just have to wait and see. I thought that job was a guarantee and when I got it, I was going to quit my current job, go on summer break until September, and then start the new job and September. But now that I don’t know if the new job is happening, I don’t know if summer break is happening. And that’s discouraging. The last time I didn’t have a summer break was in 1999, when my dad died. I worked all summer so I could pay for school, because our family’s extra money had gone to paying for my dad’s funeral.

But since the year 2000, I have always had a summer break. And I have used those breaks to travel, fall in love, learn stuff, develop skills, go to camps, be out in nature, teach stuff, and create and strengthen bonds with family and friends. I know I’m spoiled. Summer breaks are luxury. And how did a poor girl like me start feeling entitled to such a way of life? I don’t know.

I have always felt entitled to life, though. When I was a little girl, my mom was a babysitter and housekeeper. I used to go with her to work sometimes. The people she worked for had a really nice house. When the dad would come home, I would be sitting on the bar stool at his kitchen. My mom would be looking at me all nervous, like I was supposed to get down. I’m glad she never told me to get down. Anyway, one day the dad came home and he was just pacing around looking mad. My mom was pretending to clean something. The dad came up to me. “Do you want a Coke?” he asked. “Yes, please,” I answered. He was incredulous, but he got one of his fancy glasses with the thick glass, put some ice from the automatic ice-maker in it, put a coaster on the counter, and served me a Coke. I was too young to realize that he was being passive-aggresive and was trying to tell me to get off his counter and clean something. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing wrong with me sitting at his counter and being served a Coke by him. It was common manners when someone is at your house! When we got in the car, my mom told me that I have some nerve! I’m glad she never said that I wasn’t supposed to sit at the counter and be served by a rich man. I’m glad she never said that good things were too good for me. My mom’s a very honest person, and I’m glad that she always believed that her kids deserved the best in life. Even though we were poor, she never thought that anything was too good for us.

And so here I am. An entitled poor woman. I still think I’m supposed to be sitting at a counter somewhere in a big clean house being served. I still think I’m supposed to go on summer excursions where I work on heal the world projects or learn stuff or teach stuff or smell fresh trees. I still think that my life is supposed to be drastically different than it looks now.

Sometimes I think that this has just been a stopping point. At my sister’s college, most of the kids were rich and privileged. and so they had a class called “Suffering.” In it, they learned about suffering and they had to pretend they were poor, etc. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been in a real life class on suffering for the past few years. Yes, I have learned a lot and it was a very important class. I have become kind and compassionate and all that good stuff that you become when you can’t be anything else. I have realized the value of niceness and Love. Love is so underrated. I have come to appreciate companionship and learned about creating an environment instead of letting an environment create you. I have even come closer to God in a real way. I’m glad I took this class on suffer, but I smell caviar in the distance.

This class is coming to an end.

STAND UP! I hear Your voice booming. STAND UP, You say. Step into your life now. There’s nothing wrong with not being poor. Poor people always look at rich people like they don’t know anything about life. As a poor person, I know about the secret agreements we make. We don’t hang with those bougie people. We always have to talk some kind of slang so that other poor folks know that we don’t think we’re better than them. We don’t dress too fancy because we don’t want others to feel bad. It’s so funny. Because all of our lives we have been working towards being wealthy and successful and happy, but we are ashamed of it. We are ashamed of living a life of fulfillment. We think we will lose friends and people won’t like us, etc. etc.

You know what though? It’s a new day for me. “Are you willing to be so successful that people hate you without knowing you?” he said at my spiritual center. Yes. Yes, God, I am. I don’t need or want people to hate me, but I’m willing to close this chapter on suffering, no matter what the consequences. I’m willing to stand up and step into my own shoes. I’m just not interested in suffering any more. I’m not interested in abuse anymore. I’m not interested in meanness anymore. No. I’m just not interested any more. Yes, I am willing to have good things. Yes, I am willing to be good things. I have work to do in this world and things to experience. Yes, Allah, I can finally say it and mean it. I AM WILLING TO LIVE! OH MY GOD, YES, I AM CHOOSING TO LIVE! I am choosing to stand up now and step into my own shoes. The thought doesn’t scare me anymore. It means the time is finally here. I am willing to live! I am willing to live! I choose to live… I am embracing the end of suffering… Ameen.

Day 338

The End Of Suffering

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From → The Alive Part

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