It doesn't seem appropriate to write a post about transparency in hospital billing or the significance of the color of the "scrubs" the different hospital workers wear. It's Christmas and my thoughts should travel a higher road today. Maybe a post about aspiring to live a better life or how to make a difference in the world would be a good topic today. but it's hard to broach those subjects without sounding pious at best, preachy most likely.
I do want to be a better person, not just today but every day. The problem is that life gets in the way.
I'm impatient or too busy. Too busy to be nice? At least too busy to be considerate sometimes. I would like to make a difference in the world. I just can't go to a third world country and volunteer for a year. I have responsibilities here, people who depend on me here. Can't I be heroic here? Don't the little things here count?
Isn't there a humanitarian award for the mom who quietly raises good children? Or for the spouse who stands by the partner undergoing serious medical treatment? Maybe those acts are only valued when they are done selflessly with no expectation of recognition. I do think it's true that if you do a good deed expecting a reward, the good deed turns into a black mark on that cosmic report card.
Bravery and courage aren't just for the good soldier. A friend facing a scary diagnosis who stoically endures the onslaught of medical interventions deserves a battlefield commission. But the most she gets is a new pair of hospital socks with the grippers on the soles.
There is no public adulation, no awards ceremony, no red carpet gala celebrating those little victories over indifference or detachment or self pity. We are at our best when no one notices but we persevere and do the right thing, hopefully for the right reason. I guess that is most I can hope for.
I do want to be a better person, not just today but every day. The problem is that life gets in the way.
I'm impatient or too busy. Too busy to be nice? At least too busy to be considerate sometimes. I would like to make a difference in the world. I just can't go to a third world country and volunteer for a year. I have responsibilities here, people who depend on me here. Can't I be heroic here? Don't the little things here count?
Isn't there a humanitarian award for the mom who quietly raises good children? Or for the spouse who stands by the partner undergoing serious medical treatment? Maybe those acts are only valued when they are done selflessly with no expectation of recognition. I do think it's true that if you do a good deed expecting a reward, the good deed turns into a black mark on that cosmic report card.
Bravery and courage aren't just for the good soldier. A friend facing a scary diagnosis who stoically endures the onslaught of medical interventions deserves a battlefield commission. But the most she gets is a new pair of hospital socks with the grippers on the soles.
There is no public adulation, no awards ceremony, no red carpet gala celebrating those little victories over indifference or detachment or self pity. We are at our best when no one notices but we persevere and do the right thing, hopefully for the right reason. I guess that is most I can hope for.
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