I’ve logged more experience than most with simplicity and the complexity you discover inside simplicity, minimalism and asocial behavior, endurance and landscape.
Here is the truth: I think some deep wisdom inside me (a) sensed the stress, (b) was terrified for me, and (c) gave me something new and hard to focus on in order to prevent me from lapsing into a despair coma — and also to keep me from having a jelly jar of wine in my hand.
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After reading Barbara Ehrenreich’s book excerpt in The Sun [“Cleaned Out,” January 2003], I thought I’d purchase a copy of her book to see what I could learn. I was truly disappointed.
I admire Ehrenreich’s courage to try to make ends meet working as a low-wage employee in different parts of the country. I know it must have been challenging for a privileged Caucasian woman with a Ph.D. to work side by side with those “under” her. What I couldn’t understand was her rage and discontent with her circumstances, considering they were temporary.
She had resources people living in dire circumstances don’t have: She could escape to her cultured world any time she pleased. She had extra cash, just in case. And she was living alone without a house full of roommates or kids to support.
I did learn a thing or two for which I am grateful, but I have to admit I have never felt so much anger at an author. Her writing is filled with hypocrisy, snobbery, and self-pity, and lacks empathy and compassion for those less fortunate than her.