a better person..

I have had so much to say lately but every time I sit down to blog my brain just kind of fizzles. I have so much going on and I can't sum it up, can't talk about it, can't spit it all out. Maybe after finals are done and I have some time where I don't feel guilty for being home, it'll sort itself out.

Instead, I'm going to tell you about something that happened the other day that still sits in the back of my brain.

I was on my way home from school after stopping in at the shop to get a tea and say hi to the crew. I was feeling really sorry for myself, pretty "woe is me" and keenly taking the weather as a sign of my mood, drizzly and gray and mucky.

Driving down Cornwall, just before it crosses Champion, a woman was wandering in the street, looking lost and dazed. She was a little too skinny, a little too frazzled around the edges, to look like someone who got up that morning in a friendly environment. She was moving jerkily and weaving, in a fashion that I sadly have come to recognize in my years working downtown as the result of some kind of drug use. "Great," I thought "just what I need. What the hell is she doing?"

I rolled to a stop at the light, warily watching her position to make sure she didn't, you know, dart in front of my car. She weaved over to me and knocked on my window. I took a deep breath and rolled the window down a smidge.

"Yes?" I asked, annoyed.
"Ma'am... I need... I really need someone to take me to the hospital.. can you take me to the hospital?" She was crying, shaking, obviously completely distraught.
"The hospital?" I asked, my mind racing with the thought "Do I really want this woman in my car?"
"Yes, the hospital, I really need to go, now, please? Please, can you help me"
I didn't know what to say...
"I, um, I can.. I can call you an ambulance, I'll wait with you.."
She sobbed and slumped her shoulders
"No, you don't need to do that, I'll just ask someone else."

She dejectedly moved down to the next car in line. The light turned green. I rolled through the light and about 100 feet later, thought "Stephanie, what the hell are you doing?" and turned around in the parking lot of the Public Market. By the time I got back out into the street, a red Bronco had picked her up. I followed it to the hospital driveway, to make sure she made it there.

The entire drive I kept thinking that I have always been the kind of person who stops what she is doing to help someone in need: I have been late for work on more than one occasion chasing a stray dog out of traffic and trying to reunite it with its owner, I missed a Spanish test once to help Nick look for an apartment when his life was falling apart, I have let countless people stay on my couch, and fed them, and helped them with their bills when I had little time, space, or money to do so. So why, now, am I becoming the kind of person that doesn't stop to help someone so obviously in need? I berated myself for most of the rest of the day, and the next, and again, while I'm writing this.

I called Kat, and texted my MIL. They both had good points in my defense, Kat saying I need to watch out for my own safety first and Trish pointing out that I'm sick and overtaxed. However, they both feel like excuses. I know in my heart that my first thought wasn't my health or my safety, it was annoyance at the interruption to my day and distrust of someone drug addled enough to be asking for help in the middle of the street in the rain.

This is not who I want to be. I keep hoping that the world will be a better place, made that way by ordinary people who open up and have compassion for their neighbors, for their community, for their place in a global life that respects all beings of all colors in all situations. I talk a pretty good game. Sometimes, I pat myself on the back for shopping local, growing some of my own food, supporting people who make things with their hands, recycling, using low energy bulbs, wearing sweaters instead of turning on the heat, riding the bus, riding my bike, running, eating more vegan meals, etc. etc. etc.... But my task isn't done. I am not really doing all I can unless I am going out of my way to help people who need it. That woman needed me, she needed someone to show her compassion because she is a human being who deserves it, no matter her situation. I think of how sick and far gone I was not 5 years ago when I was in that horribly abusive situation, and how there was one night I couldn't go home because I knew he was there, and I was walking, alone, shoeless, at 2 a.m., thinking I could make it stop and keep from getting hurt again if I knocked on a neighbor's door or asked a passing car for help. I didn't, because I was too scared to ask someone else for help, and I ended up going home to the violence I knew was waiting there for me.

How could I not have helped that woman?

I can't get it out of my head..