Some years ago I was invited into the home of a couple who had hired me for the day to clean up their yard after a windy storm. V and J are the parents of a good friend of mine. My friend had not only recommended me to clean up the yard; he planned to join me that day to do the work. I had been an acquaintance of V and J for many years. They had seen me at my worst. While I had not exactly been vulgar in their company, I had been, in various combination, impolite, arrogant, disrespectful, and a jerk. As the time passed since our last meeting my life, and disposition, had begun to change. By the time the day arrived to re-introduce myself I had become less offensive by most standards, and interested in people in a much different way. V met me in the driveway upon my arrival. It was just him and me. My friend is customarily late, and was again this particular morning. I immediately recognized V as an honorable, mild mannered, decent, solicitous guy. There was no sense of a bygone judgement of me that stressed our interaction. As conscious as I was of my past sorry behavior is as glad as I was to know that I could be prompt, punctual, and attentive to that present here and now. That is how that day began.
The property and yard cleanup at V’s house was a combination of a mess that had just been made by a storm and residual stuff that had accumulated over time. V was good to show me around the place, and there was nothing there that was above my pay grade. I could help him out; and it could be done in one day. V seemed comfortable with my comportment, mood, and attitude. We seemed to hit it off. So far it was a far cry from the concerned look of disappointment that I remember having gotten from V years before. It was a solo effort at first. My buddy was late, and V, as well as his wife J, was not up to this work. It was time to get started, and so I did.
Eventually my buddy showed up. We plugged along until noon. That’s when we were called in to the house to eat. The kitchen table was set, and I was invited to sit down. In this space, of nearly forsaken hospitality, I would find sure and enduring inspiration. Not only are J and V very friendly solicitous hosts, they are remarkably steady in their own truth. Affirmatively we make a grace before we eat. A conversation begins driven by current events. Jerry Sandusky was on trial for sexually assaulting kids. I heard the most mature discussion about this popular story. Remarkably, without righteous emotion, regurgitative hype, or hyperbole we explored dimensions of human behavior and organization that could only be reached by emotionally balanced people. Inspiration grew and grew. J maintained her own discipline throughout. She tended to her own duties deliberately. All the while her listening skills were on display. This was evidenced by the timely relevant observations she would make and interject. V never lost his balance or even temperament moving through a great conversation. It was inspirational! I want to be able to discuss matters in a matter of fact way without getting mixed up, and compromised, by a personal pride, righteous indignation, passion, or a narcissistic love of the sound of my own voice. I’m inspired by how productively ideas can be developed on a hot-button topic. With a type of modest dignified honor we collectively make the afternoon terrifically meaningfully productive. I’m inspired by the healthy educational growth I’m feeling without anyone, or thing, succumbing to hype and/or degradation. Beautifully inspirational for me from beginning to end. What a terrific, and unexpected, element to the day’s experience. Surprise. Surprise!
Being the beneficiary of being present and accounted for this day’s tasks is great. We finish up our work, and say goodbye. J encourages me to be my best self. She wants to read my creative writing when I get around to doing it. V stops me to pay me. He shakes my hand. Forget the dollars and cents. That firm, direct, “I mean it” handshake from V meant much more than the pay. I’m glad I was asked to, and was able to help. I believe V and I mutually appreciated our acquaintance. That would be the last time I would see V.
V and J were married for sixty four years. Last spring they both became very ill. They were separated. They went to different healthcare facilities for treatment. I felt a very strong sense of what it means for them to be apart. From a distance I cared. Then the news came that V had died. There was a memorial service planned for V. There we would have another meeting. Could J make it?
At the funeral home that sunny spring afternoon I met my friend. I offered a real condolence to my buddy, and let him know about how much I thought of his dad. “Is your mom here?” I inquired. My friend told me that she was there. I could feel a charge in my heart. He told me that she was in the wheelchair. She can’t see well at all, but if you get up close, and tell her who you are, she will remember. Just then she came into view. Sure enough she was in a wheelchair. There were a lot of people around. Family. Friends. Her people. The family’s people. It was a very special afternoon. It was not the right time to re-introduce myself right away, so I kneeled at V’s open casket. I thanked him with a prayer. Eventually the scene relaxed. J was alone with the Jamaican lady who had helped J get there, was supporting J, and helping her for the day. While they were alone at the front of the room I was sure to make my way to J’s side, and introduced myself.
It was obvious that J has been involved in an immense test. Her posture appeared wounded, her bloodshot tear filled eyes bleary, and her complexion tried. There was a beauty as well. A beauty that belied the fatigue. I did what I had been told. Getting up close, I told her who I was and that I was very sorry to hear that V had died. She acknowledged who I was, and asked if I would say a prayer with her. Our left hands gently touched… Bless us… Bless these… Bless this… That’s how I remember the prayer. The actual prayer is withheld in the ether of truth and mystery. My realization is that the prayer was/is being offered by someone I really know. J is an affirmative version of herself. Her conviction is emanating from a place of peace, as grievous as the circumstances may be; it is strong. She’s sharing it! I can feel the inspiration arising inside me again. I let her know, “When I visited you and V at your home, those years ago, I was very much inspired.” With a very calm breath, J deliberately asked me, “How are you going to share your inspiration?”
The resumption of the ordinary began soon after bidding goodbye to J, thanking her, and disconnecting my hand from hers. I nodded and thanked the woman helping J, and found a seat among the family and friends in the funeral home. Respiring, the moment upon moment rested in me. Soon we were back in the parking lot, and on the way.
Life today includes being of service to other people. While it is not shriveled or grand, it is. There is a practice of being available to listen to and share about solution based activities for those that may want certain bits of help on the way. Messages of hope and help are carried in multi various ways. I’m glad that I’ve been introduced to and guided into a service fellowship that has a mission of helping others. It’s been helpful to me, and it’s neat to see that it’s possible to be part of a chain reaction that keeps the message of, and service of, help flowing. So it’s a practice. It’s a practice more often than it’s a passion. Yet it also is.
About a month ago we were wrapping up a regular get together held on behalf of our service practice. It is now routine. There is a vernacular which is largely parroted because it’s got proven effectiveness. In spite of this, there is always active creativity that leaks into our discussions. There is real candor for sure. The candor is routine too. In this way, another day comes and goes. On this particular occasion I am met afterward by someone that has approached me directly. It’s not unusual to get some specific one on one feedback. On this evening this feedback snapped me up. A lady I had never met before approached me. She made this point, “Thank you for sharing your inspiration.” Oh my?!?! The prayer!