The Gift of, and to Others. A meditation on the sharing of our time, our soul and our most intimate self.

 

June 19th, Ano dos

Sunday Meditation

The Gift of, and to Others

It is a gift to have good friends who surround you. More and more of what the world offers us comes with collateral costs. Chief among the costs is isolation. We work side-by-side and play side-by-side, and yet with the internet allowing us to all things customized or personalized, in effect, we walk through our existence alone.

It is easy to slip into an opinion of one, where conclusions are closed and cast in concrete, where we know our position is not well thought out, but we don't know why and we no longer care. Friendships take maintenance and maintenance takes time. Time we must wrestle away from some other competing interest.

Bowling alone is not bowling, despite what the pin-setter says otherwise.

Friendship offers much in return. The free exchange of ideas and perspectives and use of the other as a sounding board as we think our unthinkables out loud. We all benefit if we have an anam cara.

Do you have someone with whom you could walk a wooded path and share your deepest thoughts?

 Can they share theirs with you?

Do you unintentionally surround yourself with those of like mind?

Are your friends just clones of yourself?

Can you really take to heart a friend's opinion if it is in conflict with your opinion?

The more years I age, and the more I examine my life as I lived it, and the more I examine the lives lived out around me, the more I am convinced to go through life alone is a terrible waste of your life. I don't mean alone as in unmarried, or cloistered in a self imposed hermitage. I mean alone, as in not ever waking up or becoming self-aware, instead, letting the algorithms do the heavy lifting in all things from eHarmony to career choice, to retirement fund investing to the choice of wallpaper in your bathroom.

It is never too late.

It is never to late to leave behind the old, the familiar, the predictable, the secure.

Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in relationships is not to endorse a death-wish, but to endorse having bonds with others that are unfiltered, unedited, unabridged. "Messy" comes to mind.

To put it another way, are there people in your life you are comfortable with being totally naked in their presence? Not a hint of make-up? Not a stitch of clothes? In broad light?

Are there people who wish to be naked in your presence? Who wish to bare it all?

I am not naive, I know the naked are preyed upon, whose nakedness is used against them and sometimes by them, I know that.

Let me leave you with this final story*. I was a grain buyer most of my life. Grain buyers and bartenders share a lot in common, you get to know your regulars and you get to know some of the unpublished chapters in their lives. Planting season had finished and farmers, once they have the crop in the ground, usually make some old crop sales to pay bills or to reduce overall exposure to the market. A farmer who I had bought corn from for a long time stopped by my office and after the traditional small talk, sold some old crop as well as small amount of new crop. Traditionally, this is where the visit ends, the farmers gets up and wishing for good summer weather, heads for the door.

But he didn't.

He just sat there, not saying word, with his forearms resting on his knees.  The silence grew only more pregnant and my mind was trying to figure out if I had said something inappropriate.

Finally he looks up and says, "You know I lost Julie in February?"

I replied I did, that I had attended the funeral and crew at the elevator had sent flowers, and we all enjoyed it when she helped haul in and that we all would miss her. I stated sincerely, that he must feel the tremendous loss and I was at a loss of words to express my condolences.

And he just sat there, looking so forlorn.

And then he says, "You know, I never knew her... I n-e-v-e-r knew her."..."Now she's gone".

I was at a loss as to what to say and he continued, "We were married 44 years, raised good kids, grew the farm, paid down debt", then slipping into the first person, he continued, "I did it all right, but I got it all wrong. I had time for all the farming and we discussed family issues and money issues, but I just didn't want to hear "us issues", or "her issues" or let her share her fears or her personal struggles, I just couldn't hear her. You know when we got out of cattle she made me leave the lane we used to move cattle to the creek bottom on the other side of the section in place. I wanted to pull the fences and farm it, but she wouldn't let me. She used to beg me to walk it with her and when we did, we would talk and talk and talk as we walked along. But if I'm honest I wasn't there for her when her personal issues came up, when she so wanted to share her burdens. Oh, I listened...but I didn't hear. I'd give some superficial answer and changed the subject. Till the day she died, we loved each other, our marriage was good, and in today's world that says a lot, but I tell you this, I will go to my grave knowing I never knew Julie the way she wanted me to."And with that he stood up shook my hand, wished me a good summer and left.

There's a lot said in that story. There a lot there. I know it's a husband/wife relationship, but I think that is really irrelevant, I know it sounds sappy and maybe it is, but if a saccharine response is all we get out of it, we missed something.

So it's Sunday, a day of rest (hopefully), a time when we can reflect (hopefully), an opportunity to walk a wooded path, if ones available, with an other, a chance to share. Think about it, meditate on it, pray for it.

bobb

* I changed a few details out of respect for the party's privacy