Meditations of a Blanket
I ended up staying up all night. The early morning light was streaming through the air, making everything look soft and wonderful. The world was beautiful. A new day was beginning. Infinite possibilities. I was considering putting on some pants and going outside to watch the day unfold. But I saw my blanket. It is a wonderful blanket. Blue and kinda dingy. It is just the right softness and has only one cigarette burn (no idea how that got there). It was laying there. Just laying there. I didn't need to unpack it or unroll it. It was as if my blanket was waiting for me.
I crawled into bed, feeling so privileged. I mean, I have a frickin bed. It cradles my substantial curves and allows me to forget my body long enough to fall asleep. I have a blanket. One that doesn't need to be unpacked. I have walls. Walls that make it harder for someone to attack me in my sleep. In my tired state, I imagined lying there without the benefit of walls. I felt exposed, cold. I felt the threat of others. Someone could come along at anytime and attack. No reason needed.
Inside walls, there is always a reason. They want my stuff, they want to rape me. There is always something. Outside, anything could happen. This gets into your bones. I have seen it eat the good out of people. All of this fear. It is not good for anyone.
I got to thinking about how lucky I was. How many nights have I climbed into this wonderful bed? How many times have I lamented that the sheets need to be washed again? Or that the place we live in is not the best. But we have a place. We have a room we can go to into to shut out the world. We can actually fall into a blissful sleep, without fear of attack or distraction from aches and pains. We have a sense of belonging that so many people don't have. And why are we so fortunate? Fortunate being a relative term.
I have heard it explained away as hard work. I have heard this disparity justified because others deserve it through an endless list of reasons. But I can't help but think that it is only chance that divides us. I was homeless. Now I am not. Decisions affect my reality. But still there is something more. I had luck. The luck of a good family that would let us stay with them for a couple months. The luck to get a job. The luck to not get beaten or killed.
But yet, despite all those decisions and all that luck. I am one rent check away from becoming homeless once more. There is no bank account containing more than $5. There is no travel fund we can dip into. If we don't get the check at the beginning of the month, we are out on the streets. Relying on our wits to keep us alive and fed. I don't really know where I am going with this.
I guess I just realized that, despite the way others look down on me. And the way I look down on our situation sometimes. We are so incredibly lucky to be here. In this dingy apartment. We are lucky to have heat and water and food and electricity. All of these things that people consider essentials. We have them. For now. Maybe we will be somewhere different someday. Maybe we will have them there too. Maybe we will move to a coastal state, like I hope, and sleep in blankets that don't have to be unpacked. The world is limitless. Luck is everywhere.
I pray for my brothers and sisters out there tonight and every night. I pray for them in more than the Christian sense of the word. I pray that one day, people will get over their differences. They will relate to each other on an interpersonal level. Human to human. And forget the systems and classifications that keep us apart. Maybe they can see that the people are not the problem, but rather the merit system we are judging them by.
Good Night.