What is worth?

I had a moment with my daughter today where I questioned myself. I’m still doing it.

She knows we take money seriously.

She knows we think one person isn’t better than another.

And yet there was me today…

We had some errands to run. Whilst in a town, we passed a busker who was talented. The kind of talented where you wish you were someplace else, sitting, relaxing, spending with friends, savouring a glass of wine, just listening with no other responsibilities, whilst a gentle breeze cools down a days heat from a vibrant sun.

We stopped to listen for a few seconds, as I lost myself in a moments dream, and I felt compelled to trawl the dregs of my purse and pass her coins to put in his guitar case. He was polite, and genuinely grateful, with his thanks and we moved on. My daughter was shocked that I’d share ‘shrapnel’ with anyone. I’m the mum that won’t even pay for parking.

A little while later we passed another ‘busker’. A late teenager (or early twenties, I’m no good with ages) who was strumming his electric guitar with his head down and giving me the side eye. No singing, no obvious tune, and no audience participation. I’d emptied my purse already but realised I probably wouldn’t have given him anything if I had. He hadn’t inspired me like the first busker.

And that realisation made me question myself.

I believe we are all built equal. That we are all worthy.

Or that’s what I tell myself.

In reality I reward performance. I reward people who’s efforts speak to me.

I’m still pondering on what that means for me.

As always, if you are feeling troubled, please consider whether you think you would benefit from getting relevant support.  https://helplines.org/helplines/

© Highcroft Writing 2022

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