Of goats and lip-gloss

After giving/throwing away most of our belongings when we left Okinawa in what we have come to call “The Big Purge,” followed by our job-less arrival here in the U.K. where our yen and American dollars have been squashed by the strength of the British pound, we have found ourselves living a very frugal and minimalist existence. Even though this has been a bit rough on our over-inflated capitalist egos, we have really learned a lot about being thankful for the little things and how to be happy without money. I have harkened back many a time in the past few months to the story of our friends Max and Aidy in Okinawa and how they were so poor when they were first married, they didn’t even have a stove and had to gather wood and cook over a fire. We are a long way from experiencing poverty, but the reality that there are so many people in more dire financial circumstances than us has really caused a revolution in my thinking (and hopefully my actions) about how I view and treat poor people. I think it’s also changed my thinking towards who I view as rich. I was recently shocked to learn the average income in the UK puts you in the wealthiest 2% of people in the world! (I imagine this is similar in other wealthy western countries). I used to think that people like Bill Gates, basketball players, or even Bob Rhorman (Indiana reference for all you Hoosiers!) were the rich people, but now I see that even being “middle class” makes me a rich kid in the eyes of the world.

Anyway, the moral of the story is… When I have started to envy people with money to blow on Starbucks and potato chips (our day’s budget consumed without thought or care), I am confronted with the realization that they are me. Now on the other side of the glass, I see a glimpse of what homeless and jobless people might see when they look at us (all blame shifting, finger-pointing, and cynical observations on how we view them aside). I can just imagine what a starving family in Africa might think of people who spend 15 quid on a five-color set of lip-gloss at Boots that will probably end up being misplaced, unused, or forgotten about in a matter of time. (Maybe something along the lines of, “You mean, all it does is change the color of your lips? Why? I could buy a goat for that!”) I don’t want to become a soapbox preacher or an activist on the subject, and sadly it’s something that I’ll probably end up forgetting the poignancy of at some point, but I do hope personally that this experience has opened my heart up in a new way towards understanding people. Experiencing a taste of hardship has hopefully given me a practical course in compassion.

Be constructive with your blues,
Kristy