Wrestling with my conscience

Making ends meet these days becomes more of a struggle than a strategy. I used to enjoy clipping coupons, switching off lights or turning the thermostat down to save a penny here, a nickel there. Anymore it seems like wasted effort as grocery prices rise and my paycheck shrinks.

Then there are days when all of it comes into perspective. Days when the blessings suddenly seem to fill the half empty glass.

We have all seen the man or woman on the street corner announcing with their creative cardboard sign the blessings that any amount of money will bring to their efforts to survive on the streets. I have fallen victim to the pleas on more than one occasion. I have seen the homeless sleeping under the bridges, or in the alleys. An endless cycle of feeling guilty for what I have and saddened by the misery of their plight. I was witness to a young man who died of a heroin overdose in a porta potty down the street from my office. His mother found him in there, needle still in his arm, when he didn’t come out. The next day I found a makeshift tent behind our office, with a few belongings, empty liquor bottles and evidence they had sought privacy under the outside stairscase to use as an outdoor privvy.

It is heartbreaking to see the choices people make. Pinching pennies is a choice to keep the wolf from the door. Choosing to use pennies to buy alcohol or drugs invites the wolf inside the door. I had to make tough choices this week to clear away the menial possessions, clean the outdoor privvy, paint over the graffiti and post no trespassing signs. It has been a wrestling match with my conscience but also an opportunity to be grateful for the choices I have made.

Images: flickr image by David Blackwell