I stood there in the kitchen and thought of all of the people throughout human history who literally had to scrape for every last grain of rice.
Either from poverty, from famine, from war, or from poverty and famines brought on by vile wars.
Reflexively this all just arose in my mind as I found myself losing patience with scraping the last bits of rice I cooked for dinner onto my plate from the bowl.
But those stubborn little sticky fucks just clung to the sides with the audacity of an octopus while I tried super hard not to waste food.
I soon relented though. And ended up just rinsing the rest of them down the drain into the darkness of the sink’s belly.
The truth is, obviously, no matter how good of a grandson from Depression era grandparents I was, children in Ukraine and everywhere else across this merciless globe will still be dying of malnutrition as we speak.
“We need to be more mindful of our food and make sure we eat every last drop.” No, that’s not the point I’m making here. “We need to be more grateful our food and everything else.” Yes, but that’s certainly not the point I’m here to make either. I mean, c’mon, that gratefulness thing has been beaten to death and hardly anyone is listening anyway.
My point is, is that I have no point. It’s just amazing to me how much we have and how miserable we still are.