Allies Among Us
Today I am thinking about allies.
On Friday I went for a walk through my neighborhood. It was early-ish, on a day with blue sparkle and fresh sun. I chose streets by their profusion of fresh flowers, their human abandonment, and a magical dapple of sunlight. It reminded me of seeing “The Celestine Prophesy” years ago, an independent film written and created by friends of mine, based on the earlier book. A golden thread running through that film is that everything contains an energy, and if we follow it and are transparent about our desires and intent, we end up exactly where we need to be.
I’ve felt that energy lately, in big and small ways. Days ago on a walk, also while following my nose, I came across a “Poetry Tree.” It was a gorgeous, hefty-trunked, old growth glory with a string tied around its girth and poems in plastic sleeves clothes-pinned to its middle. There was a variety of uplifting, encouraging poems: Max Erhmann’s “Desiderata” and others. Even a child’s crayoned masterpiece exclaimed, “If you work hard, then you will succeed!”
There was an invitation to “Leave a Poem” which buzzed excitement through this Travelpoet’s heart. But I had neither pen, nor paper, nor a phone to take a picture of this lovely neighborhood offering. (My phone has gotten into the uncomfortable habit of informing me how many hours per day I spend in front of my device, so a (mostly) daily walk outside is the one respite I have away from brain-zapping technology.) I walked the next mile reciting the intersection cross-streets over and over in my head so that I would remember: 45th Avenue SW & Massachusetts.
On a different day, on a different block, I looked up at a living room window with a line-up of 3 stuffed animals. There was an owl, a llama, and a cat. I was chuckling at the recent phenomena of fuzzy friends on display inside quarantined households when suddenly the cat in the window turned its head and looked at me. Not a stuffed animal!
Moments later, a woman inside the living room waved at me, and I waved back. She opened the door and stepped out onto her porch. “Did you do my Scavenger Hunt?” she asked. I shook my head; I hadn’t noticed it.
“There’s a sign right there. Everything is visible from the sidewalk where you’re standing!”
I looked down, and sure enough, there was a laminated sign with a dozen items listed. The woman waited as I called them out: pens! knitting needles! plastic blocks! a funnel! I made my way through the list, finding everything except a can of Spam. She tipped her head sideways with a conspiratorial wink. “Move down a couple of feet,” she advised.
At last I spied the Spam, and the woman and I waved at each other as I left. “What a lovely idea!” I told her. “Thank you for your creativity!” I walked away with more bounce in my step, grateful for the small gestures of strangers.
This week I had a phone call with 3 members of the Seattle police department and the other 2 co-founders of Communities of Belonging. The topic of discussion was the resistance of a new neighbor at our Restorative Home. While formal, it was a thoughtful and productive conversation of information gathering, frameworks of accountability and possible strategies of increasing neighborhood understanding. I was struck that members of law enforcement, and even a former Department of Corrections officer, were showing up as surprising allies. The individuals in our program have other data points when it comes to the police, and vice versa. And yet, here is a new story, with the first hopeful paragraphs written on a fresh page.
Other surprising allies this week were 2 separate help desk gals at 2 separate companies that worked hard trying to untangle my financial kerfuffels. (My government stimulus check was unfortunately deposited into a bank account that I had closed back in February, and my auto-pay credit card was still pulling from that same, closed account incurring fees each time, )
I spent probably 7 hours on hold, over multiple days, being pushed along in different phone trees before eventually winding up with a quintessentially professional, empathetic and expedient gal named Jennifer from Las Vegas. We each did our part from where we were, navigating online banking, trying to set up a transfer (that was refused due to insufficient funds from the errant credit card payment,) working to lift off fees, etc. Eventually, before hanging up, we both paused. “Thank you so much for working so hard to help me, and for your kindness and professionalism. I really appreciate your civility during this whole, crazy process. If I’d had such good customer service before, I’d probably still have an account at your bank.”
She responded with, “Everything is so stirred up in the world right now, I think we all need to respond with kindness as much as possible. I’m really sorry that you’ve had to call so many times and that we still weren’t able to get everything resolved today. If you call back one more time next week, the hold should be lifted after the funds are returned to the credit card company, and your Zelle payment should be able to go through.”
I’m keenly aware that sometimes our greatest allies are right in front of us: known, and easily accessible. Other times aid comes to us, tangibly and intangibly, from people we’ve never even met. Today, I’m pausing to be grateful to all of those who have shown up and made tough moments a bit easier. Brent, Catherine, Jaxon, Birch, Aldan, Marin, Ted, Mom, Brent, Jennifer in Las Vegas, and all of the others spreading light and care, whether or not they realize it.
Kindness and gratitude are contagious too.
