It’s been awhile. Far longer than I intended. Life has been… full. Full of stuff. Things. Events. Feel free to insert any other words that we use in today’s vernacular to describe events that hold great personal weight, but also implies that they don’t. Confused?
Welcome to 2019.
Wait! What?
Let me try that again: Welcome to my 2019.
Yes, I do know that it is February 2020. This blog was started in December 2019 when I was reflecting back on the year and looking forward to all of the promise of a new year. That’s what we do in December & January, right? How does one reflect back on a year that was full of wonderful, horrible and blissfully mundane events? I know, I know, the easy answer is that everyone has the same type of year: we all have wonderful, horrible and mundane times. I am not the sole owner of those events. That’s very true. That’s kind of the point.
2019 brought changes: new job, new friends, new doctor’s added to my team, new fatigue, increasing physical challenges, new schedule, etc. One thing 2019 did not include was a new doggo for our home. (Yes, we are stopping at 4 for the time being.)
2019 brought many wonderful times spent with my Core 4, family, friends, co-workers.
One thing 2019 taught me quite clearly is that this world is full of strong opinions, agendas, feelings, platforms, ideas, dreams, assumptions, accusations and ultimatums. The question I keep coming back to is this: with many voices getting louder and louder, who is truly listening?
Let me share an experience that I had in September. It was a Friday and I stopped by a store to run a quick errand on my way home from work. I parked my car and saw a man who seemed in need of help in the parking lot. I got out of my car and hurried towards him and offered a hand. He declined but I kept him company as he made his way to his destination. This took about 3-4 minutes. Right before we reached his destination a lady came up to us and told us that, “you are what’s wrong with this country and it makes me sick to watch you both. Get your *** lives together and stop being a burden to society.” Many more loud words were spoken, but I do not wish to relive that experience. Let me try to explain what I imagine was her viewpoint: a woman who parked in a handicap parking space runs over to a large man who was obviously not walking well due to the condition he had gotten himself into, and then, to top it off, they were walking to CiCi’s Pizza, which will only increase the problem. (Well, this is the “kinder” version of what I suspect she saw.)
Here’s what I experienced: I parked in a handicap parking space (I have a handicap permit) praying for the strength to walk into the store and finish the errand before I wouldn’t be able to move the rest of the day. I looked up and saw a man having great difficulty walking across the parking lot. His walking was painful to witness as he could take a tiny step with his left leg and then drag his right leg. He was quite large, as am I. It was lunchtime so the parking lot was quite busy. A few cars swerved around him. So, I got out of my car and hurried over to him to see if he needed help. He declined because this was his daily exercise and he really wanted to do it on his own. Here’s what I learned while keeping him company as he made his way to CiCi’s: he lives by himself on a very fixed income, he has several health issues but knows the importance of keeping the body moving. So, on this day, he decided to get a ride to CiCi’s and get left off in the parking lot several feet away from the door. He explained that this would motivate him to keep moving. He had $7.00 and wanted to get a meal. He wanted to combine exercise and his 1 meal of the day. He never complained, not once. He declined my offer to help him either financially or physically.
You see, to this man, this slow walk across the parking lot was a significant event. He was moving. He was independent. In all of this, he was also a kind and lovely human. He didn’t talk much as his walking was so labored, but he was grateful for the company. To me, this was a significant event. It reminded me that in a loud, loud world where people draw hasty conclusions filled with assumptions, we miss out on so much. We miss the ability to grow, to understand, to truly be compassionate. Compassion isn’t always something that is given out in large gestures, though those are important and life-changing. Compassion is sometimes the little things that show we can be quiet and listen.
2019 was a wonderful, horrible, mundane year and I am grateful for every part. Here’s to 2020 where my goal is to keep the spirit of Christmas in my heart all year long – to love more, assume less, be constantly thankful and look for opportunities to speak when I should and listen even more.
The Time that is Given 