The time has come, and I am going to be as delicate as possible, because I love all of the beings in my little world (even the neighbor’s over-achieving rooster). In fact I’ve been accused, in a scathing tirade that still stings, of being naïve. And it’s true; not only are my glasses rose-colored, they have sparkly frames and the lenses make everyone look like they’re wearing little halos.
Everyone. I like the halos because, let’s face it, we have only so many people to work with around here. It seems to me we need to appreciate and make use of the good qualities in each and every one. So here I go, appreciating.
It all started when I got a phone call and the unnamed person on the other end of the signal sputtered, “The small town DRAMA is exactly why I never wanted to do this in the first place!” This person had just received word from another person that went something like, “If that person is going to continue to be involved, then me and my people are NOT going to be involved.” (Notice how I didn’t specify gender or say involved in what. Nice, huh?)
Well I said to the person on the other end of the line, “Don’t you DARE! Don’t you even say the D word. You have the power to squash it, bury it, POOF ALL GONE!” Because here’s what I see through my special glasses when I look at “this person” and “that person:” One of them can always be counted on. When they say they will do something, consider it done. I remember one particular time when an incident involving someone they love had to have made following through uncomfortable to say the least. We who needed their help figured it wouldn’t be forthcoming. But even then they showed up, on time and willing to work as promised.
The other one has loyalty by the orange Home Depot bucketful. No one is more attached to or supportive of the youth in our community. You won’t attend an event, from football a long drive from home, to the FFA auction, to the Halloween Haunted Hallway, to girls’ softball in the rain, and not find this person there, wearing school colors, being proud of the kids, and handing out hugs.
My caller is (or was) very fond of person number two but indebted to person number one for much help gladly given. If it had to be either/or, the choice was about to be a definite neither, until I did the phone call equivalent of shaking my index finger. I just won’t have it! What happens when people are able to appreciate one another beyond their many differences is a kind of magic worth getting feisty for. I told the person on the other end of the cell phone signal to make magic happen. Or else!
I think I may have surprised both of us with my passion for the topic, and after the call I found myself thinking about why this situation even mattered to me. I realized it’s because I’ve done it both ways. When I first moved back home, after years living somewhere more like a shoebox diorama than a snow globe, I showered my wider-world knowledge all over a project dear to my heart, working happily with a small group of like-minded friends old and new to reopen the public library, upon whose shelves rested so many of my childhood dreams. Then someone I simply could not get along with joined us. I found myself engaging in yelling matches (something those who know me know I do not do), growling at my children, splattering my husband with muttered monologues. And then I resigned, quit, KAPOOT!
What a crappy feeling. That’s why this situation matters. Because I lost the path to something I loved, something that made a difference to the community. I had to find my way back, and the way back was through learning to appreciate the person I was struggling with. This person did not become my best friend. I still growl upon occasion. But by learning to focus on the good things brought to my beloved project by this person whom I found impossibly irritating, I gained an appreciation not only for those things, but for the person who brought them.
That experience has allowed me to keep at it when conflicts (NOT using the D word) arise in my other small-town endeavors. I believe my phone caller and friends (nope, I’m not going to tell you who they are) can do that too, and that they will find it’s worth the effort. My rose-colored glasses often get terribly smudged, are frequently misplaced like my keys, one tie-dye sock, or the darn TV remote, but I think they look great with all of my outfits so I always clean them or search until they are found and put them right back on. You should be glad, because you all look cute in your halos! Except the person who was mean to me and called me naïve. I can’t see her halo yet...but I’m working on it.
