I almost flipped backwards when I heard the bouncer say, "forty!". Forty freakin dollars!!! That's how much it was to get IN the bar my friend recommended me to try when I asked him what's a great place to hang out nowadays. Not that I was dying to party, but my sister just arrived in town from the UK and all my cousins were with us to celebrate our small family reunion. But forty bucks? Who the F--k was in there? Kate Moss?!!! I tried to regain my composure as I slowly turned my back to him and announced to everyone we were moving. A group of young girls who were prob'ly in their early twenties eyed me with raised brows. They were unmistakably dismissing me as a "cheapo" when I refused to pay another NY city bar way more money than they deserve. Brats... I returned their gaze with as much pride and prejudice as I held my own place....while trying to hide my own amusement as I allowed them to take their fill and eye me up and down. This is MY game. I have perfected this attitude since birth. I can fire back to the bitchiest of attitude without saying a word.
But I am getting too old for this sh--! I don't do velvet ropes anymore! Last time I lined up to get in a bar was when I was in Frisco with another cousin who wanted to go to some bday. Even that didn't go well bec I immediately left the line to go to the closest PUB. I don't have TIME to party. And if not for good friends who are celebrating bdays or for family members who are in town to visit, you'd never see me partying till dawn anymore. If I do, it'll be in Paris where I am in the same establishment as Madonna or Gwyneth Paltrow! As if!
But as my thoughts go back to those girls who were dressed to Saturday night's perfection, I remember my old self when I was their age and going through that "living the moment" phase. God was I that shallow?! I lived looking forward to weekend night sessions of drinking and socializing with the right pair of Manolo's. What a disgrace...
It's not that I have something bad against going out at night or having a good time. It's just that I have quietly allowed myslef to move on to the next station of my life that allows me to thoroughly enjoy life without the assistance of alcohol or pretentious chit chat. I am not impressed with wealth or stature, of appearance or reputation, of job status or educational background. I would much rather be with the company of the simple and the humble. Those who conduct themselves in utmost composed and quiet elegance. People who are bizarrely honest and downright open. People who are exceptional by just being off-handedly funny and brutally kind. People who are....hmmmm...say, TRUE. While I roll my eyes at people, women especially, who are weirdly pretending to be nice but deep down secretly wants you to stumble in your perfect black dress, I relish at the thought that there are some who will cheer you on in your pajamas and morning hair while you strut your stuff empty handed. In this day and age, the glitz and the glam has slowly become a bore. A chore even for me... since understandably, there will always be days when you have to dress to kill in order to be heard. But really, how long can you keep someone's attention if you really have nothing between your ears?
Now, I know I'm not making any more sense...but it really frustrates me. It frustrates me when some people come running to me and complain about how messed up their lives are and they think they can do absolutely nothing to change it. Wake up! We cannot insist on changing the world when we are running on EMPTY. The only way we can start seeing improvement is when we begin to REFILL our lives with purpose and substance.
As I was teaching religion class to a bunch of halflings in school, one of my pupils raised his hand to ask what was the greatest act that Jesus ever made among all other acts. Ofcourse I replied with---the death of Jesus on the cross. And to this seven year old I questioned back, "What would be yours if given the chance?"...his reply filled my heart with so much warmth only a mentor could ever understand.
"His cross...I'd carry His cross."
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This is what I live for...a sense of purpose in a world that conducts itself nonchalant about the happenings of everyday life. It feels good to know that somehow even the smallest act of service can make a difference in someone's life. I felt an enormous amount of respect when I found out my cousin who recently ran for a marathon raised $7,000. That's seven homes for seven families. Now I have interviewed a lot of self-proclaimed runners for this fundraiser marathon. While a lot of them have given me the same response about helping the poor and uplifting spirits, I was not totally impressed. For most of them barely raised the minimun amount of money. I think we have forgotten that in making a stand, it is not all about the finish line. Sure they finished 26 miles, trained every weekend, busted their limbs and bones...but in the final analysis, how much money was given to the poor? Was it really about the HOME or was it all about the RACE? Who were they running for??? Without $1,000 there is NO HOME. If you did not do your best begging for donation, then you have totally missed the point. YOU ARE RUNNING FOR EVERY DOLLAR that every person gifted you with and you are bringing that pot of gold to the finish line. The heavier, the better....for what use is it to reach the end if you bring empty tidings? It is like saying to God that you are finally here. You've reached the end. But when He asks where are the others, you say they're left behind. You left them behind.
Why? Was the cross too burdensome to carry?
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Yes cuss me and mock me and judge me and hate me... throw me stones for not seeing the better side of the coin. For lashing, instead of pardoning. For telling, instead of listening. For bursting your balloon, instead of letting it fly....
But really, how far will you soar when your gas tank offering is only half-full???
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