A moment of silence, not complaints

Photo by Maik Meid, via Wikimedia Commons

Itzel Basualdo/Contributing Writer 

Let’s face it: we love to complain.

It’s become part of human nature. It’s what we do best.

We’re all familiar with these cries of distaste, which are normally preceded or succeeded with a sigh or an “ay” to further emphasize our dissatisfaction with these grave matters.

The waiter is taking too long. The food needs more salt. It’s super hot outside. My phone has barely any signal here. The lines are too long. There’s too much traffic. That person doesn’t know how to drive. It’s too humid outside. This food tastes bad.

You may even be complaining right now about how I’m complaining about complaining, or about how this article is a mere waste of time, space, and words.

But that’s okay. That’s beside the point.

It seems to me that I constantly carry a crusade against life. I’m probably among the biggest complainers I know.

I enjoy going against the current, and sharing with others all the cruelties and injustices life seems to zealously lodge at me. I, however, don’t know what cruelty really is – nor do I know what it is to stare at heinous injustice in the eyes.

I’m putting this whining and garrulous ranting behind me because it’s ill-minded. We seem to enclose ourselves in a bubble that subtly blinds us and leaves us with the incapacity to see beyond our own realm.

Well, this may be an eye opener: there are nearly seven billion people inhabiting, roaming, living and breathing in this planet we all share.

Out of these seven billion people, at least 80% of them live on less than $10 a day. Over 660 million people without access to proper sanitation scrape the line between life and death with an appalling $2 a day.

And sadly enough, approximately 22,000 children die each day from poverty.

How can I complain about school? When there are kids out there who can only dream of stepping into a learning institution.

How can I complain about the food I eat? When there are millions of people who go to sleep hungry, and have never known what a meal is comprised of.

How can I complain about traffic, when I have the luxury and am fortunate enough to have my own means of transportation?

How can I complain about my own parents, when there are children who wish they even had parents at all, who wish they knew what the nurturing love and infinite care of a mother or father?

We worry and incarcerate ourselves in a vacuum of greed and cynicism.

It’s okay if you don’t have the latest iPhone model, if your food took too long to come, if your nails aren’t absolutely immaculate or if your last haircut left you looking
like you were attacked by a flock of pigeons.

Instead of keeping our lives on the negative, the daily vexations, let’s take a moment and pause. Let’s open our minds and clear the ignorance that blinds our innate kindness.

Let’s give thanks. Let’s lend a hand.



1. “Poverty Facts and Stats,” via globalissues.org

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