Sara rescues sea turtle eggs for a living. She doesn’t feed the hungry or give aid to adolescent prostitutes in Thailand. She just watches turtles lay eggs in places where the eggs will be harmed, then she digs the eggs up and moves them somewhere safer.
Dig. Gather. Dig. Deposit. It’s no less good for being small.
It made me remember some things. Like the reason that I originally started taking massage classes. My uncle had a nasty form of cancer, and he started hugging people a lot more. All these hugs made me realize that most people with terrible or terminal illnesses need a lot of physical contact. Your supply of that tends to dry up when you’re sick, even with something non-contagious. People are reluctant to touch or be near the sick. I wanted to become a massage therapist because touching sick people seemed like a need even I, with my basic skill-less-ness, could manage to fill.
No matter where I put my body, the wheels of this war are going to keep turning. The government will continue to do bad things. People will steal from each other. Women will be raped. No matter how much of the night you take back, there will always be more night you can’t reach.
I am suspicious of movements and causes. All I can do is something small.
I emailed SFPAWS (San Francisco’s Pets Are Wonderful Support) to find out when their next volunteer orientation is. They need volunteers to walk dogs for people with AIDS. Kim J told me about it a long time ago and I didn’t really internalize it until now.
Leash, walk, scoop. It’s small, but it’s something.