Conceited

By Samadhi Yaisha/My Daily musings

I rushed into the temple a few minutes before a meditation and I stopped suddenly in front of a Red Cross sign. They had a blood draw in the basement. “I have healthy blood!” I told myself. I went downstairs, feeling so good about donating clean blood, nurtured with beets and a lot of veggies and beans high in iron. I went through the endless examinations with all those personal questions, and then they tested my hemoglobin: 13.4! My eyes brightened with the though of showing off my healthy stats on Facebook along with the pretty picture, fueled with likes! So I put on some make up, grabbed my Android and *click*… Until they tested my blood pressure: 89/58. The technician stared at the numbers while my lips wrinkled like a little sun-dried tomato. He took the blood pressure again: the same numbers. One more strike and I’d be out. “Will it help if I run around the building?” He laughed; it was funny and sad at the same time. I knew their reserves ran dry frequently. I wanted to help another human being, but I also wanted my picture on FB! Finally, third time’s a charm and the numbers were enough to donate blood. Yay!… Until they pinched my right arm, and the technician couldn’t find my vein. He guided the needle, tried to catch an elusive blood stream, and called another employee who decided to pinch my left arm. There was a trickle of blood! And then it stopped. I couldn’t donate though I really wanted to. I wonder what would have happened if I had  the intention of donating because someone else needed it, not because I wanted  my pretty picture on FB. My Beloved life teaches me: shallow help equals conceit.

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