What I Am Learning. Huh.

Periodically, I go back and randomly read some of what I have posted previously. Today, I read them all (yes, I certainly do have a lot of time on my hands!) and I am beginning to see a picture.

Early on, I did a lot of talking about what is next, fear of change, needing a purpose, leaps of faith and what I really wanted for the next (hopefully many) years. Back in July, I wrote something I called "Fear of Jumping". I wrote about having known the life of being served but now,I felt I probably needed to learn about serving someone to find some fulfillment. And then, as is my special way, I forgot all about it.

However, my very dear friend upstairs did not. And in fact, I am looking back and can see where He has subtly been putting "service opportunities" in front of me for a while now. And, because I have the time - endless amounts of it - I have stepped in, if for no other reason than I have no excuse not to.

Now look, I'm no hero. But I have been praying for a "heart transplant" for some time. My internal "empathy switch" has never worked so well; compassion often seemed to elude me. And this has been a secret a shame for a long time - something I could never really admit to - except to the few who sort of figured it out on their own. It wasn't that I was a bad person. But my focus, for whatever reason, was always on myself - I always operated on survival mode. I could certainly "be there" for someone, but unless their problem involved me personally, I didn't carry it. Not that I want to. I have enough things to worry about - but understanding is what I think I am really talking about here. I couldn't understand. As such, it was kind of hard to feel what I think most people feel.

In walks unemployment. And I have months to consider all this stuff. And low an behold, I am needed by someone: an acquaintance who I ordinarily would have made promises to that were nothing more than gestures. Someone whose challenges would have scared me to even be around. Someone whose life was really turned upside down. She is recovering from a massive stroke. Without much thought, I made a commitment to her. I see her every week. I listen and try to encourage and take her out. And surprisingly, I think I'm getting as much out of it as she is. I don't get scared when I get a phone call from her. I know she needs assurances, and I don't feel at all that I am going to suffocate. I like her. I really do. And I really look forward to spending time with her - even though communication takes a bit of effort. She is a gift. To me. She is a new friend of mine. And in addition to friendship, I feel I understand. Huh.

Similarly, I find I am going a little further with the kind of help I would normally offer. When a another friend of mine came home for the hospital after a really major surgery, instead of dropping by the market to pick up ready-made food to bring on my way to visit, I contacted my ex-husband (oh yes, there is an ex and he'll show up in these posts eventually), and asked him for his chicken split pea soup recipe. I went to the store and bought all the stuff and made my own stock and made this soup from scratch. For her. And the only reason I am telling you this is because I had to stop in the middle of it and say to myself: "Wait a minute. I don't do this." But I want to do it because I know this is scary and difficult for her and I understand. Huh.

I have been asked if I could volunteer my time and services for some non-profits I have peripheral involvement with. I immediately said yes. Because right now, philanthropies are in real need of help. And I do understand. Huh.

It seems that every time I turn around, I am getting a call or an email - asking me to help or talk or do - and I am totally not freaking out! Huh!!!

Okay the point here is not to boast about how wonderful I am. In fact, many of you are probably thinking: "what in hell is she talking about?" What I am trying to say is that this is, for the most part, new for me. New in that I'm not thinking about any of it first. New in that I'm not weighing the consequences of getting involved before the decision to jump in. New in that I'm not frightened to be needed more than I might need. Good God! (Literally!) I'm 52 and I think I'm - can I say it? - growing!!

And I have to say - I have nothing to do with it. It is happening to me and I think I am supposed to be getting this in the grand scheme of things. And I find this oddly encouraging in that it makes me think that I am on a path that will, in fact, take me somewhere new. My friend who is recovering from the stroke seems to think so too. She makes a circle gesture to her heart, points to me and says: "Big things coming". I believe her.

Huh.