Different worlds

Tonight as I sat down on the couch to watch American Idol with my family, I looked around and thought how wonderful it was that were all in the same room, enjoying the show together. Then, in an instant my thoughts were interrupted by the idea that somewhere in Haiti tonight there are families who haven't heard from their loved ones since the earthquake hit. Or worse, who know that their husbands or wives or children are dead. It struck me how different that world is from mine and how insulated I am in my own world.

I don't often watch the news. In the mornings, I'm too busy getting everyone out the door. In the evenings, either the kids are dominating the TV or I'm busy getting dinner or driving a carpool somewhere. By the time the late night news is on, I'm generally already asleep on the couch.

So when I was meeting with my boss this afternoon and she got a text from her husband saying that it's feared that hundreds of thousands of Haitians died in the quake, it took me a second to realize what she was talking about. I saw a few Facebook updates and Tweets yesterday mentioning prayers for Haiti, but I confess that I didn't know why Haiti needed prayers and I didn't take the time to ask. My boss was visibly disturbed at the news.

Sitting there at work today, hearing about so many dead, left me a little numb. I did send a note to women on my retreat team from church, urging them to remember our CRHP sister Marie who came to America from Haiti some years ago and who still has family and friends in the country. But beyond that I couldn't wrap my head around the reality of the situation. Maybe because I hadn't seen pictures of the destruction. Maybe because it seems so far removed from my world where my biggest concern today was whether or not the Transformers puzzle would make a good birthday gift for my nephew.

I sat in a grocery store tonight passing out information about Fit City, surrounded by aisle upon aisle of organic foods, bulk rice in 10 different varieties, and an olive bar for crying out loud, giving little to no thought to the people of Haiti whose lives have literally been uprooted and thrown back down with terrifying force.

When I think about it, I'm ashamed that I am so self-involved that the tragedy hasn't been on my mind more. A friend of mine said she went to Mass tonight to offer prayers for the people of Haiti and that the priest was quite shaken by what's happened. Why am I not feeling this more deeply? Why am I so unaffected?

Have I become one of those spoiled, arrogant Americans? Am I really so self-centered that my heart has grown two sizes too small?

Sure, part of me thinks what can I do about Haiti from my life in Central Indiana? The answer is, aside from prayer and a monetary donation, not much. But there are needs in my own community that I can fill. There are families going to bed hungry, people in nursing homes wondering if the world has forgotten them, homeless men and women sleeping in the cold tonight.

I'm not sure where I'm going to go with this. But I do know that my eyes have been re-opened and that I can't pretend that those other worlds don't exist any more.