Lindsay the Intern: Week Three Musings

(During week three, our Intern reflects on her own situation)

What is a home? Is it four walls? Is it a flushing toilet and a humming refrigerator? I am starting to feel a bit transient myself. My home is constantly changing and my future is uncertain. Am I homeless? I have a roof over my head; I even have my own bathroom. There is no doubt that I am one blessed little lady. However, I think there is something to be said for appreciating the nuances. My home is not the walls or the toilet. It is the love and friendship that wrap me up after a cold walk from school. It is the shared meals and the binding conversation that leaves me feeling like I have found a place to stay. If I took down all the pictures and removed my enchanting clutter, I would be left in a cold, white box.

It  makes me think. Yes, everyone needs a protecting structure, a sense of security, but what of it if it doesn't also provide a sense of pride and happiness? A room, is a room, is a room, until it's my room, or your room. The more I learn about ShelterCare, the more I admire their mission. Any organization can give shelter, but it would do little without compassion and dedication. ShelterCare doesn't just provide housing; it provides homes.

I am starting to realize that beyond writing this, I tend to take nuances and warmth for granted. I guess we all get caught up in our busy lives. When something is always there, we tend to lose sight of it. It is time to start appreciating the little things in life that make it so intriguing. Instead of focusing on my shortcomings, I think I will adjust my lenses to see all that I have in a new light. I know Thanksgiving is over, but we should all take a little time to be thankful for what we have, perhaps more than just stuffing and gravy? I thought so.

The weird thing is, I bet if you asked a homeless person, they would have plenty to be thankful for. Whether it is the community they live in, their family, or the shoes on their feet. 

As I scan my room with a tired yawn, I can easily see ten things I could live without. I see another ten things that someone else might desperately need. What could you give up to better the lives of others? A scarf? A pair of shoes? Think it over. I am going to.