Wealth (Which Makes No Sense)

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Thursday, the low tire pressure light comes on in my Camry as I head down 8th street to work. Then, I feel the steering wheel wobbling in my hands. I turn on my blinkers when I get to the stop sign at Cumberland, and walk to the front of the car. The front passenger tire is flat. Shit. My heart skips a beat, and I see myself frantic and panicked for the rest of the day. Wait. I take a deep breath, think about what to do, and, instead of in the past, when the only option I had was to call someone who would blame, berate, and criticize me while offering begrudging help, I realise that this isn’t a crisis. A flat tire used to be a crisis in my life, because of my relationships, and my finances. But now I have roadside assistance, paid for with my good money. I have a network of supportive friends and neighbors. I have cash budgeted for car emergencies such as this. I have tools to manage my anxiety so that this inconvenience doesn’t determine the trajectory of the entire day. I call roadside assistance, schedule a towing to a mechanic near my workplace. I ask my neighbor to give me a ride to work. I let my boss know I’ll be 30 minutes late. I ask the parent of a student (who has become a friend), to give me a ride to the mechanic. I get to the mechanic, pay the bill, and drive home.

Cool as a cucumber.

The difference between my calm self now and the younger me who had (all-too-frequent) car accidents or issues and was derailed by them for days, emotionally and financially, is a load of personal growth work, therapy, etc., and money. Damned money.

I think often about the mystery of wealth. In the capitalistic, dog-eat-dog (isn’t that a terrible phrase?!) society we find ourselves in, politics and social circles revolve around the bottom line, the dollar, the profit. I easily fall into a thought cycle of how can I build wealth, how can I save wealth, and of everyone I know, I’m one of the least interested in money. Even listening to conversations between students I hear them accepting what they have been taught is fact: building wealth is the most important thing to do, and the best way to spend your life, is earning as much money as possible.

It’s heartbreaking.

The mystery is that wealth can lift some of life’s most acute burdens off of our shoulders (the stress of a car accident, the pain of living with chronic, untreated health problems, fear of having no place to spend the night, etc.) but it has no bearing on life’s greatest joys, and earning excessive amounts of money leaves no positive impact on the world.

Money can’t buy the way a child runs to his parent with arms spread wide, unconditional love and affection on full display.

Money can’t buy friends who surround you with an embrace when you’ve reached a low point.

Money can’t buy the ability to look back and see that you brought yourself through trauma, disappointment, and resentment by fiercely cultivating healthy habits, gratitude, and forgiveneness.

Money can’t buy the connective sense of being understood that flutters in the heart when you read a book in which the author describes a feeling you could never quite put your finger on.

Money can’t buy the loyalty a pet shows its’ loving human.

Money can’t buy a good sense of humor, style, or respect for elders.

Yet, Thursday’s event was an inconvenience instead of a catastrophe in my life, because, now, I have more money.

All I want is for everyone to have what they need.

I want those with too much, with so much that they feel guilty, isolated, and bored, to have less. I want those who are homeless, unable to make ends meet, working over time just to survive, sacrificing good eating habits to save money, etc. to have more.

All I want is for the human family to be as one. Provided for. Grateful. Generous. One. Amen.

“Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” ~ Matthew 19:24 (the Bible)

Kindness Speaks to Love

People from my community have shown me strange kindnesses over the past year. By strange kindnesses, I mean they are kindnesses/favors I never would have expected to receive, or to have meant so much to me…

My neighbor essentially lives upstairs from me. I consider the outdoor walk to her stairs, and up to her place, merely a hallway in our home. She asked me to keep her wine in my fridge as she weaned herself off of drinking too much. I watched her leave a habit that had become toxic for her at the time, by creating that distance for herself. What a joy to help in that way!

Then, this neighbor, started keeping my chocolate chips in her kitchen, for the same reason. A habit turned toxic.

Today, although it is 19 degrees Farenheit, I wrapped my nude self in a blanket and went up to her apartment to take a shower, because my hot water isn’t working. She wasn’t home, but even if she had been, I know she would have extended me the same welcome to use her warm water!

While I had COVID-19, the friend who exposed me to the virus (unknowingly of course), drove me to get a COVID test, and shared his thermometer with me as I did not have one, and didn’t have the strength to go buy one either. Such a simple thing–a thermometer–but so essential when you’re running a 100+ F temperature for days on end.

The same friend, already exposed to the virus, on the same time frame as I, came over when I called, panicking, on my worse night with the virus, when I was struggling to breathe. His presence helped me calm down, and find a way to fight the sticky mucus that was obstructing my breathing.

My sister, who lives a full 30 minute drive away from me, and works hella long hours as a nurse (the only people who work harder than teachers, IMO!), answered my call that same scary night. She brought medicines, a neti pot, and other items to help me turn the tide of the virus. She probably wasn’t home until midnight, and when I offered to buy her a new neti pot (it’s an intimate item…), she assured me not to worry about it.

An expat family (from France), who I have never met, brought me soup, and a small fruit salad. Two other French women, whose daughters I tutor, brought me soup and other food stuffs. I honestly wouldn’t have had food to eat if it weren’t for their back-to-back deliveries when I was in the thick of it. My best friend from France, Florence, made me a yogurt cake, my favorite kind, and dropped it off, in addition to checking on me every day via text. Tears come to my eyes when I think of these kindnesses, and the empathy shown to me when I was weak and helpless.

A friend who used to live two buildings over (but has since moved), with whom I have probably physically spent time with less than 20 times (damn you, COVID), went to more than one Walgreens to buy me the vitamins I needed. She also brought me 16x the amount of Gatorade I needed, but, hey, better than running out!

Another friend, who runs a very tight schedule, and cares for many people, took the time to cook two different dishes, and bring them to me during my illness. She added extra spices to the dish so that I could taste it, and it was the first food I was able to taste since contracting COVID! Side note: she also sells items for me on Poshmark. As a hater of details and logistics and small tasks, this is an amazing help. I just appreciate her so!

Sadly, I missed a friend’s small birthday celebration because of my illness (isn’t COVID just the story of a thousand pin-prick disappointments and losses?). Another friend, an artisan, made a gift for the birthday girl, and had it shipped to her. It arrived just on time and she loved it!

The most fun small kindness that I’ve discovered over the past year was during the first semester back at school, with the pandemic waging full scale. I found it extremely difficult to do the basics of life, and my job, during this time. Getting out of bed and going to a job that felt impossible every single day beat me down. I fought hard, but it often felt that I was losing the battle. I realized that my internal motivation mechanisms were fried, just a couple months in. I knew I had to get creative to keep myself motivated. So, I gave stickers to a co-worker and asked her to reward me with a sticker every time I did the task I needed to do. She did an excellent job of hearing about my “accomplishments” (such as washing my hair, or getting to work on time), and presenting true pride over how capable I am. It was hilarious, but honestly, helped me get through that time successfully.

These are such small things, most of them, but they have each been essential in their own way. These are interdependencies that I didn’t know I’d ever need, but showed up to lift me up when I was in freefall(s).

These kindnesses have spoken to me of the love undergirding the framework of life itself. In a moment of sorrow, disappointment, physical pain, and isolation, they have reminded me that there is room inside of Love for every defeat and moment of despair. Love is big enough to hold us all, and we are loving enough to hold up one another.