A path littered

January 2, 2017

I walk past litter every day. I see it, I am saddened by it and I am angry about it.

I wish people didn’t drop litter where I walk. I wish people cared not to drop litter at all.

I wish people cared like me.

I wish people were like me.

…But I am the person who walks past the litter, knowing it is wrong and with the means to pick it up.

Obviously I am just the person who would prefer to be sad and angry rather than being the person who makes a difference.

If I am the person who can walk past the litter I guess I am bound to be the person who will walk past much greater and invidious prejudice, unfairness and injustice too.

I can say I do not have the time, the strength or the means to help, so that is why I walk past. Although I see I am the person who has the time, strength and means to be sad and angry about it.

I guess I have practiced sad and angry more.

I wish people were not like me.

I wish people were like the person I need to be.

I wish I was like the person I need to be.

Perhaps a time therefore to own that responsibility; to say out loud that nothing is stopping me.

 

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