A Tale of Two Mugs

Each morning these two mugs greet me at my desk in my cube. As far as cubicles go, mine is okay. I have a window. I have access to decent, dark roast coffee. I have a great boss and co-workers, a huge change from just over a year ago. When I started my job, I was flush with the new job smell. Well, now, I have come to terms that each day can either be one of those good kind of days or one of those days where I would rather stay at home for another couple hours with the covers pulled over my head.

I bought the Gandhi mug soon after I started my job in public health.

I wanted something to remind me that I could “be the change” I wanted “to see in the world”. I still believe that, but I will admit that after a year of seeing some award winning apartments owned and maintained by the local slumlords, that I don’t always feel so full of goodness and light. I still believe that I can be an agent of change, but sometimes quoting Starbuck of Battlestar Galatica fame feels better.

Lately, I have been more in a FRAK frame of mind. I think that at times it is because I feel that what I do is akin to trying to scoop the ocean with a sieve. Sometimes the rampant outbreaks of STD’s, endless bureaucracy that impedes getting people the help they need, nervousness about the economy, and a myriad of other bothersome issues threaten to outpace my supply of “I Give a Damn” pills that I keep in my desk drawer. Trust me when I say I understand why people who work for the Department for Motor Vehicles are so surly at times.

The latest chapter in the FRAK chronicles has to do with the realization that the so-called Comforting Restraint to immobilize children so you can vaccinate them is little more than an euphemism for Human Straightjacket that enables a third party to inject your child with dead viruses in hopes that the live viruses won’t make them ill. Somehow, drinking my coffee from my FRAK mug makes me feel better.

Fortunately for me, the Gandhi mug moments are more frequent than the others. I know that I do make a difference for those clients who would not have a competent interpreter. I know that organizations, governments, and nations will change if each individual decides that they are going to do what they can in their own little patch to make the world a better place.

As Madam Harlot Pearl-McPhee points out in her writing and speaking engagements, knitters may understand this concept better than others. We know that one stitch repeated thousands of times can produce a sweater of such beauty and warmth to make you weep. We know that through the gift of one knitted garment we can express our deepest well wishes, blessings and love. We know that the gift of a simple hat, scarf, mittens or pairs of socks to the right person at the right time can remind someone that they matter and someone cares enough to spend their life energy to keep them warm – regardless if the recipient ever meets the knitter or not.

Stay tuned. The germ of an idea has taken root. Remember that you, too, can “be the change you wish to see in the world.” Perhaps your opportunity is closer than you think.