A cure for concern

On the occasions I find myself buried beneath an avalanche of tissues, suffering from a blocked nose and sore throat, I suddenly wish I had the health I enjoyed last week and the ability to soak up the sunshine and engage with people. It’s the same with holidays; I used to take for granted those uni breaks that stretched on forever but now that I have four weeks a year instead of four months, each day is measured out like gold dust. What I’m trying to get at is how it often takes something negative to make you notice the positive.

I’ve been a bit stressed about money lately. I’m on the verge of taking on a mortgage and have been figuring out how I’m going to survive on a part-time wage. To compound my nervousness, I lost my bank card a few days ago and had to scrounge around in the back of my car for coins to pay for petrol – twice (unfortunately, it was a complete excavation the first time).

Today I went to tutor two boys and chatted to their mum afterwards. They’re from East Timor and are in Perth on a temporary protection visa but she just found out this afternoon that the meager allowance the family is living on will cease to be paid to her from next week. Her husband is fighting in East Timor and she hasn’t heard from him in two months – he’s never seen their youngest child. She has four children under the age of 11 and basically no support.

While I’m worrying about having enough money to pay off my own house – as well as having enough to go to the movies and eat out when I feel like it – this family might not have a house to live in in a week’s time. The encounter didn’t just put my concerns into perspective but convicted me of my general self-centredness – I’ve found a cure (temporarily) for both my worry and my self-absorption.