Thieving Misfits

Last night our farm was broken into. Fortunately not much was taken. As a nonprofit farm, we have few things of value to offer opportunistic thieves unless they are the type of thieves looking for an opportunity to start a villainous organic farm or enjoy the wicked pleasures of gardening. Most of the harm came in the form of cut locks and damaged fencing. They stole some canisters of gasoline from our fuel locker, ate some Twizzlers from our tool shed, nicked Rose’s iPod from the greenhouse, and took some random tools presumably to be used for future breaking and entering. I felt bad for Rose but she had a very Zen attitude about the whole ordeal. All-in-all we were pretty fortunate that nothing the thieves took greatly impedes our ability to do what we do: grow wholesome food and serve our community.

But as relatively harmless this particular outcome was, being the target of a criminal act like this left a sharp bitter taste in my mouth. My visceral reaction upon discovering the pilferage was anger and fury. It made me want to track-down, tackle to the ground, and repeatedly punch in the face the assholes who did this until my knuckles were split open and coated with an unhealthy layer of blood, mucus and saliva.

(set to the tune of One Last Caress by The Misfits. Context: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Giebe-uzPFg)

I got something to say 
I stole your iPod today 
And it doesn't matter much to me 
As long as I’m ahead 

Well I got something to say 
I ate your licorice today 
And it doesn't matter much to me 
As long as I’m fed 

Sweet lovely theft 
I am waiting for your breath 
Come sweet theft, one last caress 

Sweet lovely theft 
I am waiting for your breath 
Come sweet theft, one last caress 

Well, I got something to say 
I took your fuel cans today 
And it doesn't matter much to me 
As long as I fled 

Sweet lovely theft 
I am waiting for your breath 
Come sweet theft
One last caress

One last caress, sweet theft 
One last caress, sweet theft

Demonizing the thieves made me feel better. But that’s the easy way out isn’t it? Although it brings me much satisfaction reveling in the idea of exacting penultimate vengeance, I doubt these petty pilferers are the baby-killing, mother-raping monsters I project them to be. In reality I have no idea who these people are, what their motives could be, or why they did what they did. They could be simple opportunistic thieves who overestimated the potential of stealing from a non-profit farm, young hoodlums looking for fun and excitement, or pitiful, desperate vagrants looking for anything that could help them get by. I think what I am trying to get at is that my preliminary assumption of these individuals and consequent feelings of anger and repudiation stands completely counter to what I try to strive for as an AmeriCorps member, a Full Circle employee, and a decent human being: compassion and a selfless willingness to serve my community.

When there are weeds to mow, beds to hoe, seeds to sow, and plants to grow, there’s no time to feel mad, angry, or low. Important work is to be done - rise and let it go.