When I grow up....

Up until recently I always was making the statement “When I grow up…”  The funny things I am a grown up.

Being *a* grown up and *being* grown up are not one in the same.

There are so many things I wish I could get done.  Not things that I can't physically do – just things that for whatever reason I don’t do.

Like cleaning – really clean from top to bottom – the house.

Get organized.  De-clutter.  Room by room.  The entire house.  Every room, every closet, every drawer, cabinet, nook and cranny.

Just looking at that it seems too much.  So overwhelming, so daunting.  I don’t even know where to begin.  So I don’t.  I can’t.  I look at that and think there is just too much, I can’t do that…I don’t’ know HOW to do that.  That is how I feel about a LOT of things.

I feel if I can’t do something 110%...perfectly…better than anyone I know, then I can’t do it.  I will be a failure. 

There are so many things where I fall short.  I have a LOT of shortcomings as a person, I know this.  It makes me mad and frustrated and upset.

I know who I WANT to be…and its not who I am.  I don’t know how to change that.  I don’t know how to be happy with who I am, who I have become.

Soup Kitchen

Back on June 22nd I volunteered at the local soup kitchen.  I spent all day going back and forth about cancelling but never did.  And I'm glad.  It is so outside of my box...something I really need at times.

My emotions were all over the board while I was there...it felt good helping out, I felt bad for the people who have to come there, bad for the people who were waiting outside for the shelter to open (in the rain that day).  But then again I also felt hope.  Hope that maybe somehow I could make a difference.  I want to make a difference, I want to change the world.

It was not what I expected.  When I hear 'soup kitchen' I vision a homeless man, wearing 5 coats with a scruffy beard & backpack...a line of people who look like him holding trays going up to a serving line getting a scoop of this and a scoop of that...a milk...something warm to drink.  It was so far from that.

I sat at the table and checked people in (by writing their names on a list).  I really wanted to do something in the kitchen but Sam, the kitchen manager said that 'first timers' run the check in to see how the meal works. 

Everyone lines up outside and waits to be let in.  They are patient and polite...they and friendly and respectful of each other.  They check in, sit down and wait.  House rules are gone over, someone from staff says a small blessing and the food is brought to them at their tables by other volunteers.  They eat, as fast or as slow as they want.  Then they bring their trays up to the counter and leave.  Most leave right after, glad for the meal.  They all said thank you as they were leaving.

Telling them to have a good night when they leave made me feel bad.  Most of them are homeless...how exactly were they supposed to have a good night.