Thank you to the 20 folks who’ve joined the seasonal “40 Days of Generosity” thread that I invited newsletter readers to last week. It’s wonderfully intimate and I find myself going through my days a little differently—how can I be in the flow of giving and receiving? How can I step off my front porch with my pores open? One of the unexpected pleasures that we are noticing as a group is that we are more aware of times when others are giving, to us or to someone else, and this has been just as sweet.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what Norman Fischer said in one of my favorite books Taking our Places:
“A mature person is someone who is willing to hear the call, no matter how faint and unexpected it may be, and respond. It is not necessary to look around for things to be responsible for if nothing appears. But when something does appear, you are ready to respond with all of your attention and loving care, and with no excuses, no avoidance, no fanfare. You just roll up your sleeves and do it.”
We are not called to be “do-gooders,” looking under every rock for unsuspecting people to help. No one want to be on the receiving end of that! Instead, we cultivate the practice of remaining open (through prayer, meditation, being outside, spending time with friends, solitude, moving our bodies, and learning) and we simply notice what crosses our path.
This is a big problem with screentime and social media—far too much is crossing our paths. Apathy is one danger in this scenario, but so is caring too much! We are exposed to far more than we are able to respond to. I wrote here about caring and not caring, and some ways to meet that conundrum.
So, I am working on narrowing my aperture. It turns out that just paying attention to what crosses my path is enough, and there is usually much more to pay attention to than I originally thought. And—here’s a big insight—we actually have to put ourselves on the path if we want people, creatures, and situations to cross it! There are many ways to do that. One of mine is to get out into my neighborhood. Just yesterday, I was tired and unmotivated but had my chocolate lab Olive staring up at me with her beseeching eyes. So, I put her leash on and reluctantly set out. While literally on the path through the woods by my house, I ran into a neighbor I had been concerned about. We gave each other a big hug, and I heard that he is okay. I did not bring a care package to his house or make any grand gestures. I simply stepped outside with the intention to notice.
Whether your path is straight or crooked these days, narrow or wide, smooth or rocky, may you find yourself fully on it. And whether you’re delighted, challenged, saddened, or gladdened by what crosses your path, may you notice. And when the time is right, may you have the courage and impulse to roll up your sleeves and respond. Have a wonderful week, friends.