Wednesday, 08 July 2009
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Why Is It So Hard To Help People?
I wish it were just perfect.
I’m not talking about my existence.
Not my children. Not my relationships,
Not my IQ, investments, or looks.
Often, I mumble, grumble to myself,
Or even to close colleagues.
That I wish this business of helping,
Would be flawless.
Because it’s not.
I’ve spent my whole adult life,
In some sort of career helping others.
Motivations can be simple, or quite complicated.
Previous suffering or prior blessings.
My “pay it forward” life experience,
Is the root cause for my actions.
It sounds inspiring,
Perhaps even hopeful.
But pure motives don’t make it perfect.
You work excruciatingly hard,
To help someone find work.
You rattle a marketing tin cup for funds,
Just so hungry people might eat.
You fight the bureaucratic hurdles of government,
To build a humane habitat for life.
A food bank, a shelter, a job, a kind word.
A home affordable for the most vulnerable.
But perfection is beyond the grasp of reality.
People spit in your face, figuratively that is.
Why help lazy, crazy people? They say.
Others build barriers, preventing good works.
It doesn’t fit their priorities. Or political agendas.
Neighborhoods, communities, jurisdictions.
Can’t get them to say yes. Not even in their backyards.
Even the very people you seek to assist,
Disappoint, frustrate, even anger you at times.
So why is it so hard to help people?
Because hurt, suffering, and dysfunction,
Are built into our DNA, our existence.
Because we yearn to protect, to guard,
The mere sanity that we may possess.
Our lives our fragile, easily cracked.
We are offended, jaded, judged.
Perfection is only a dream.
It’s not easy. Fixing bruised people.
It’s complicated, difficult, confusing.
And that’s why we need to help others.
We are all, housed or not, broken people.
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