“Men can starve from a lack of self-realization as much as they can from a lack of bread.”                                    ~ Richard Wright

I’ve often been accused of being a bit of a “bleeding heart” in that I cannot say “no” to cookie-bearing Girl Scouts or overpriced independent merchants just as much as I can’t bypass a beggar without sharing what I have or walk away from a charity without giving at least something. But really, I’m a pretty Americanized version of a bleeding heart when it comes right down to it. Before I was pregnant, I dreamed of joining the Peace Corps to play pretend in another country and observe their lives from the perspective of an overprivileged Westerner. I imagined myself working side-by-side with natives to learn a language and build schools and hospitals to return home and tell everyone I knew about this beautiful, vast world that exists beyond the commercial bubble we pride ourselves on maintaining. I even imagined the smug new attitude I’d gain as I became more worldly, more “experienced” in things like poverty and despair that obviously would make me a better, richer, more self-fulfilled human being who could educate these ignorant Americans to the great struggles of the world around me. I thought, foolishly, that traveling out and seeing these things for myself were the only ways I could actualize myself as a generous, caring person who was helping the world instead of sitting inside my little wealthy bubble and wondering what I could do to look better, make more money, gain more fame.

Naturally, when I made the decision to raise a daughter and marry, I assumed the responsibilities of giving Chloe the best life she can possibly have. We have plans to travel and live abroad, but admittedly, we will plan to live in areas that are “safe” and socially sound, instead of risking ourselves and our cleanliness as we might’ve done if we didn’t have a little one in tow. Now when we peruse emigration possibilities, our interests settle on places like Australia (duh), Italy, Spain, Ireland, and Greece instead of India, South Korea, Peru, or South Africa as they were a few years ago. I feel myself pulling back into my eliticism and I’ve been struggling very hard not to hate myself for subscribing to such a spoiled, self-centered/serving mentality in this new domestic life I’ve obtained.

In my depression, my mind first begins to convince me that I am worthless, usually by pointing out that I give nothing to society. Recently, this has been really pulling at my conscience as I find myself staying at home and watching my daughter day in and out, only emerging to replenish our household needs or attempt to sell someone something for the purpose of making a little money. Most days, I am embarassed to be so “kept” and comfortable when there are people starving and struggling to stay alive in regions of the world I have never visited. Even moreso, I am ashamed that my mind is convincing me to consider suicide when I have so very much to be grateful for and live a life of luxury that many cannot fathom. It’s enough inner-turmoil to drive a person insane.

In my search for purpose and peace, I’ve decided to take a new route with my service and understanding of the world. Instead of whining that I can’t contribute to the world at large, I’m taking action larger than I have before. Usually, I’m pretty charitable in general; I give blood every 6 weeks, I donate money regularly to CASA, I rescue kittens and find homes for them, I buy $1 umbrellas to keep in my car and hand to those trapped out in the rain as I’m driving around, at Christmas I choose a child from one of the McDonald’s Angel Trees and go on a shopping spree for everything on their wish lists (this usually maxes out my credit card because I LOVE shopping for kids.) These things make me feel useful and helpful within my community and yet, I still feel completely disconnected from the sort of aching and despair that I’ve read and heard about for the entirety of my life. I still feel like a social fat cat, sitting in my palace, sprinkling my spare change on those who are begging to stay alive. Gross.

So, I’m making some changes. I’m starting small and starting with myself. For a few weeks, I’m assuming a diet of 1 cup of beans, rice, OR oatmeal for every meal, to better understand hunger and what it means to not have the option of more. (I won’t be weighing myself, by the way, so this isn’t some gimmick for weight-loss.) I’m not naive enough to believe that I will have a complete understanding of hunger and loss during or after this experiment, being that I will be enjoying these meals with my family in a heated house with the option to eat more if I decide to, but I hope the monotony and time away from culinary indulgences will lend me even a little bit of perspective. Additionally, I’ll be limiting my indulgences on a number of levels. I’m the queen of indulging myself to make myself feel better, always making time for a nap if I feel I “just can’t handle things”, or having a once-monthly cigarette “to treat myself”, or snacking on something calorie-laden after a rough day “because I deserve it” and, naturally, none of these things actually make me feel any better about myself. (I know, this is painfully obvious to most people.) Sure, momentarily a nap makes me feel luxurious and pampered, a cigarette makes me relax, and eating icing from the can makes me shudder with chocogasm, but in the long run, they haven’t strengthened me and have turned me into this self-indulgent wuss. I’ve gotta change that if I’m going to grow. It’s seriously overdue by at least a half-decade. So I’m also cutting out my leisure time spent on the Internet, flipping through vapid magzines, and watching mindless television. I’m stripping my life down to simple pleasures and finding purpose and contentment in tasks and routine. It’s a life I’ve always admired and it offers me no chance of escaping into hours of mindless facebook/celebrity-site-stalking or “Desperate Housewives” reruns on Lifetime or reading about Heidi and Spencer eloping in US Weekly (ugh.) I want to be happy and content with being organically, soberly alive and I feel certain I’ve got to strip myself of all my typical, habitual diversions for a while in order to do that. Finally.

I know, it seems like a rather selfish mission with a few ulterior motives, but isn’t everyone’s humble quest to better themselves a little selfish inherently? Even Mother Teresa worked to serve others, but she still took time to focus on herself and better herself as a person, if only to be a better servant. Meher Baba declared “Mastery in Servitude” to be his movement’s motto in 1938 and many flocked to his beliefs in hopes of finding salvation through giving. I don’t think these leaders were wrong in their methods for self-actualization. To me, it’s all about learning to love yourself and learning to give to/love others all at the same time. I think it’s all cyclical and, mostly,  I know that I can’t be of any service if I’m not a functioning, capable tool.  [Insert "tool" joke here.] 

Also, I’ve finally stopped making excuses and have adopted a child through Compassion which I’ve always heard is very reputable and a great overall organization. Although I’m not necessarily fond of the whole missionary/Christian/bible-thumping-agenda tie-in, I like that they have a longstanding healthy relationship with each country involved and a dependable history in general. I’m sponsoring a 15-year old girl in Peru who enjoys listening to rock music, playing volleyball and reading… So maybe I’m playing favorites a little. However, I wanted to choose a girl who was right in the throes of adolescence as those are the years girls in Peru (and other povertous countries) tend to drop out of school and turn to alternative employment. I like the idea of giving her the creative outlets and an opportunity for a voice that I was awarded when I needed it in my teens and, while I’m sure I won’t be able to save her or anything, I feel like I’m doing something important for someone outside my little American bubble. That’s brought me a little peace already.

Those are among the new steps I’m making to get out of my head, find some sanity/purpose and work on a global scale. Like Ed Norton’s character Sheldon Mopes says in Death to Smoochy, “You can’t change the world, but you can make a dent.” I’d like to start working on my dent, which seems like a better new direction than the ones I’ve been trying to find something tangible and alive to focus on.

I don’t expect this to revolutionize my soul or create some newfound energy in me where I want to conquer the world a la Winfrey, but I hope that this small meditation and change in my habits will give me a place to stand firmly and rebuild some sense of self. I feel optimistic.