Entitlement: Confusion between Needs and Wants

My niece, Heather was incredibly concerned that she was alone in the world in her observation of the number of people around her that behave with a sense of disregarding entitlement. She had several responses in support that she was not crazy and that this social maladay was quite prevalent indeed. What struck me was not the observation that my niece had made, but the fact that none of the posts that followed offered a solution. In the very least, none offered a hint that we, society, are at fault for accepting this contagious thought process.

There is a definate need for health insurance for those who cannot afford it. I can relate to those who support the efforts. On the other hand, I support those who are against those suggestions and efforts that have been made concerning the health care reform. The key is the phrase,"cannot afford it." What do we make available to those who have cell phones for themselves, their children, nice cars, brand name clothes, gold bling and other expensive jewelry items? Those who cannot afford it are those who do not have any money, not those who have the money but do not prioritize their health and the welfare of their families before the instantaneous need for material and status quo expenditures.

This is not a judgment of the haves and have nots. This is reality. Do I work hard for my money to allow someone else to spend my money on their necessities while they spend their payroll/assistance on expenditures that are not necessary for good health and safety? Perhaps, instead of continuing to blindly give and give - we should teach the masses to fish. Our first important goal is to clarify the difference between needs and wants. We should model and teach our masses to prioritize by basic needs and to create different savings accounts for different wants. Most of all, we should expect patience, integrity and compassion. Compassion for the children we choose to give life to. Compassion to teach our children to find happiness and rewards intrinsically as opposed to extrinsically.

None of us have ever appreciated the A that we received for doing absolutely nothing; it was the A that took everything that we had to earn it.

Why is it that I have several dreams that are clearly remembered here in our home in Germany, but not in my home stateside? At least not as many dreams. Some are creative like the one where I lived in a forest and I was ashamed of my old table, therefore I covered it with a cloth I had crocheted. Royalty stopped often for water, to eat and to rest and often to cool off; they would enter my home as they had the right to. This dream went on until I became the first person to use "linens" on my table and real silver to eat with. Some dreams are directional and one was violent like the one that I had last night when I had my arm cut off because I tried to help a victim of violence. The dream did not upset me, but the wonder of why I had the dream or what was I to learn from it did awaken me.

I had read that you must write your dreams down or at least discuss them in detail with someone to understand the significance of the dream. Years ago during the darkest days of my life I had a dream that it was a dark, black night and I stood at the top of a bluff overlooking the city of Colorado Springs. It was so dark that the form of Pikes Peak was not visable and the valley was without electricity or lights. No cars, no candles,nothing. There was a spiral of light, similar to winding galaxy of stars swirling to the earth where the city should have been. I wondered if this was what the end of our world would look like. At that moment I found myself in a dimmly lit tent, similar to one that would be found in a painting of the Civil War. I walked to the door and peered out into the darkness and at that moment, Amanda, my daughter found me. She and I tearfully embraced and searched for her brothers. Within moments we found the youngest, Dana and the three of us stood outside the tent holding hands in a circle facing each other. In the soft light emitting from the tent we prayed for George, the eldest and in our hearts we believed that he was well and safe. In time, George tentatively approached us and he took his place in our circle.

The next morning I was unusually energetic as I reflected on the dream on the way to work. I told the story of the dream often and with each telling I became more excited in the realization that the dream was a prophecy. The darkness was my world as it was then, my daughter would be the first to understand and come to me and Dana would soon follow. It would be the most difficult for George to see the truth through the darkness and to join Amanda, Dana and I as a family and to know that forgiveness was not necessary for himself or others.

Each detail of the dream remains clear. The purpose, the meaning of the dream has proven exactly to be as it was interpreted. For this I am grateful. It is not only important to remember this dream because it continues to give me hope and peace in those moments of darkness as it did then, but having a dream such as this one filled with hope, love and compassion signifies that not all dreams fortell of death and illness. For many years I was afraid to dream, afraid of the visions of death and illness. Today, I humbly embrace and am thankful for the gift of dreams.

What if He Was Jesus

The young man approached me and looked me right in the eye and told me that he was hungry. He then asked for money so that he and his dog may eat. His green eyes were penetrating; his eyes were full of compassion, love, pain and hope. I was completely arrested, and yet, my entire being was moved. I was in awe and speechless and enveloped in time and space that I was aware of nothing else but him and this moment in time.

I cannot call the man a beggar, though many of those who passed us by would. There were many beggars around the Cathedral in Cordoba, Spain. Some were honest to tell you that they wanted money to buy alchohol and some begged for money for unknown reasons. Other than a young woman who grabbed my arm and begged so that she could feed her unborn child, he was the only one to directly approach anyone and why did he approach me?

I wondered why he chose me as the streets were busy and I was with my daughter and husband, both who freely give and are easily approachable. It was not possible to divert my eyes, he held my gaze and without reservation or thought I dug deep into my pocket for any money that I had. Only when I had realized that I did not have any money to give the man, would he release the hold he had on me - on my mind- on my soul. I reached for my husband's hand who was offering me the money for the incredible soul who stood before me. As the young man received the money he expressed his gratitude, not only with words, but with his eyes. His eyes. His eyes were like a window to his soul and to humanity. They welled up with tears and beyond the tears and the gratitude was a Grace, a Joy and Love.

My family and I walked through the streets and I found myself haunted by this man. I could still see him, shirtless, wearing shorts and flimsy sandals; his dog, well behaved and well taken care of. I felt compelled to find him, to give him more money and to ask where he was staying and what could we do to help. We traced our steps back through the city toward the Cathedral and we searched doorways, steps and crowds of young people looking for him. He was nowhere to be found.

Utter sadness came over me as well as shame for not giving more, for asking questions, for trying harder to help when he asked. With this shame, humility and sadness I also felt a great sense of love and forgiveness. I felt a greater need to search for opportunities to help those who were unable to reach for it. I felt a loss which was also accompanied with peace.

I may have left Cordoba, but the man has never left me. His eyes and all that he was still resides with me. The moment remains forefront in my mind and his being continues to touch mine. How divine, incredibly Devine.