A grumpy blessing

I’ve been grumpy about something all month. I’m not proud of that, but it’s the truth.

I said “yes” to a bunch of speaking opportunities in April…a couple of workshops, a retreat and a teaching time at a church. They are all connected to the work I do in helping folks improve the connections that create the relationships in their lives…but they are still work to prep.  And that’s amidst and between the regular job of therapy, teaching, and being a family member of one hopping household.

So…I was not happy when the blue “Official Campaign” of the Canadian Cancer Society folder showed up between my doors. Evidently I must have said yes to helping them out with canvassing for donations in my neighborhood some months ago.  I don’t remember agreeing to do it…but it’s not unlike me to agree to such a request, and it’s unlikely they just would have randomly picked my doorway to stick the blue folder in, so I realized that I’d just gotten one more task for the month of April.

I say I don’t remember agreeing to do it, but I do have a belief that we all need to do our part, and when people ask us to do our part, we better have a pretty good reason that we can’t do it.  So when I get asked to volunteer an hour or two walking around my neighborhood, what wouldn’t I say yes…I mean, I like to be outside,it’s a good chance to mix with the neighbourhood, and it’s helping a valuable organization that helps people. And given how much screen time I, as a standard average North American have, to say I don’t have an hour or two to help an organization that saves lives seems a little sketchy.  So, I’m guessing I would have said yes…tho it would have been helpful to remember I said yes because that might have helped my grumpy factor some.  I felt ambushed.

And April is already bad enough because it is Income Tax Season.  I hate paperwork. I hate collecting it.  I hate organizing it.  I hate making sure it’s all there.  I hate feeling like I don’t know what I’m doing and that I must be missing something.

And April 2013 has been the coldest April on record.  The last of the snowbanks has not yet left our yard. Serious.  We’ve shovelled twice in April. It’s been nasty.

And I’m supposed to canvass for cancer in the middle of a stressful cold season. I was not, you might say, a happy camper.  Not at all.  The blue folder haunted me from a prominent place on the shelf all month long.

So…today I got my butt outdoors to get the canvassing done, before I ran out of month. I was tired, not feeling well, and not happy about the cold and wet weather that greeted me. To be clear, I believe in the importance of each one of us doing our part to be a part of the community in positive ways, it doesn’t mean I like doing it.  I’m an introvert, and knocking on doors interrupting people’s evenings is not my idea of a good time.  It’s not on my top 1000 things to do.  And throw in the fact that I live in a neighborhood that has many houses have these little sunrooms in the front…some of them are a part of the inside of the house and so you knock on the outside of them.  Others have their little rooms basically be the outside porch and so one is to go into the little room to knock on the house door.  And most of these rooms are ambigous looking enough that I have to contemplate whether that little space is “inside” or “outside” space at each household.  Sigh.  I was so not cut out to do this civic duty.

I was not happy I agreed to do this…and still wondering if I actually agreed to do this.

But:

Grace knocked me over

• The next door neighbour.  She’s a single mom of two elementary school aged kids.  I see them trudging to the bus all winter long early in the morning. Her daughter had cancer surgery two weeks ago to remove a tumour from her lung.  They haven’t got back the report on the tumour so they don’t even know for sure what the scoop is.  She gave more money than I suspect she can afford. She’s grateful for the incredible care her daughter received to so efficiently and effectively remove the tumour and she was clearly excited to give back.
• The elderly gentleman down the street who sighed impatiently when I asked for a donation like I clearly didn’t know his position in life and had no idea how hard it was for him.  He muttered something to that effect that things were so tight…he said, a little more clearly that usually he can only afford to give to one organization, and that was Siloam Mission. I actually told him I was just asking him because he was on my assigned list, and he shouldn’t feel obligated to give, and I could just leave right away, and I didn’t mean anything by asking him, really. He asked me to stay and he rustled up $5.  I got the sense that it meant something else wouldn’t happen because this money was now spent.
• Another elderly gentleman, in broken English, told me, “I gif three times a year already to the Cancer.  My vife, she died of the cancer, and I like to gif to them, but I gif already.  But I thank you for doing this.  You do important work.” (I was hoping he couldn’t see into me, and my less-than-charitible attitude)
• Yes another man…I snaked my way up the wheelchair ramp to his door.  I saw all the signs about asking for patience before the door would be answered.  And the health aide answered the door while the man in the power wheelchair haltingly turned his chair around.  He was just getting his dinner set up. He was articulate and clever and funny.  He had almost no control over any physical function. I asked him if he wanted to donate.  He said he was in the midst of moving.  I asked when…and he said…now, right after supper…after 13 years here in this house. I looked around and saw boxes and piles everywhere. His aide followed his instructions to pull out a bill from a concealed compartment on his wheelchair tray. He donated to help another.

The last one was enough to convict me, piled up on all the others. Someday, if I am confined to a wheelchair,not even able to propel it myself, and I am in the middle of moving from one home to another, highly dependent on others for the most basic tasks of my own care–preoccupied and vulnerable and needing help and exhausted–someday, if I’m in that position, I hope I’m also able to reach outside myself and touch the life of another.  

• To encourage a weary and timid canvasser
• To contribute to a battle that challenges the human race
• To be a part of the greater good
• To choose to look beyond oneself, and to help another

That gentleman taught me today…we can ALWAYS help another less unfortunate.  

It’s the right thing to do, and our world becomes a gentler place when we realize that we have the ability to help others.  

When we exercise the privilege of doing the right thing, we get a front row seat to be a part of something bigger than ourselves, something that will help others.  And in helping others, we help ourselves. When we help each other, we enrich the lives of others, and we ourselves become enriched.

Lesson learned, world.  Lesson learned.

I’m not so grumpy anymore. 🙂