My roofer came out last month and told me what it would cost to fix my leak! After we bargained on the price, I calmed down. I asked myself, “Self, why do you feel so comforted?” Immediately, the other voice in my head said, “It’s just a roof, get over it.”
But it was a big deal because I felt safer with a patched ceiling; I didn’t have to figure it all out myself, because he seemed to care about my money fears and I felt support. I wasn’t alone.
I got to thinking about the state of the world. Kind of a wide sweep from the roof to the world….but I see how everything relates to everything else. (In my therapy work we call it: “parallel process”). I wondered, how could community change us?
So many of the huge hairballs on the earth, the wild politics, people who “call the shots,” the harm that’s done, that all of this could be solved so simply: if we just all committed to supporting each other in any way we could…then wouldn’t we be lifted up ?
It’s hard to imagine changing the world right now, but I had self-doubt about the leaks too! The roofer arrived late at night and worked up on the roof with a flashlight. What’s up with that? Wondering, “Is this crazy or what? Have I made another bad decision?” I decided to succumb to the flood and let the river take me. When it was over, the salad bowls were full of water, but calm. So, who helped the rainmaker? A friend in the community referred him.
Then, there came the bees. I’d never seen such big, black bees. And above the porch, where the dogs and I sit. I admit I watched them with fascination as they drilled holes in my deck. I had never seen a bee drill a hole.
I was riveted, watching the bees take care of their own. They had a clear need for housing.
(I have that myself.) That’s when my bee keeping friend told me about carpenter bees. Go figure. He rushed around, plugging holes without killing the bees.
Day after day, another call, “They’re back and my dog’s allergic to bee stings!” I swear he seemed like superman flying through my door, sweating in the hot sun, bees swirling around his head. He did this in good faith, as a friend. It cost me two bottles of wine for all that. And the two black bees are still together, no divorce.
I notice favors are exchanged more often now. I have another pal who mows my lawn for my haircuts. I trim another friend’s hair for singing lessons. These are my happiest days. I’m a bit frazzled, but helping each other, saving money and knowing that one of us has a talent that the other lacks – it’s fun ! If this could be the way of the world, we might all stand a chance and I might fill the hole in my soul too …so often full of fear and loneliness.
This morning I called my handyman in a fuss. In spite of the possible foreclosure he came faithfully to weed whack, I just couldn’t take the mess anymore. He charged me 25 dollars, less than usual and bowed his head as I handed him money. After 15 years of helping me, he sighed, “people can’t afford to pay a lot these days.” I felt like he was saying: “I care.”
With unemployment and suffering so high, we need each other. Should we shout from the rooftops? “More than 1.1 million in California are receiving jobless benefits.” (Press Demo.) Problems are over the top. A record 88.4 million are considered “not in the labor force.” What to do? Mt. King said, “When I am commanded to love. I am commanded to restore community…”
When people pop out of the “woodwork” running around like this, bees, mowers and leaks, there’s a bubbling energy that’s different than being on the Internet or worrying at 3 am.
In a world that’s unraveling, let’s keep putting our heads and hearts together.
Katy Byrne, a psychotherapist in the Valley writes, “Hairballs.”
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