Cuz sometimes I'm judgmental and the Universe has to smack me
Every time I start to say, "the strangest coincidences happen", I correct myself, because I don't actually believe in coincidences. Call it God, call it the universe, call it mother nature, whatever ... I do believe most things happen for a reason, and in the right season.
It's been a slow income week for me, but not a slow week by any means. I've spent a lot of time taking care of family obligations. I've been spending time on my website and structuring my business. But the slow weeks are the ones in which you have to stay the most motivated, so I happily accepted an offer to have a brainstorming session with one of my dearest friends yesterday. Like I, she has a vision for the souls she encounters in her village and has an amazing vision for a business that helps break cycles of dysfunction. We specialize in different areas, but our vision is one and the same in many ways. We spent hours talking, and not enough hours planning, but the chatter is so important and relevant. I shared that I experience human moments, where I think, "Crap, can I really support my family this way? Can I take care of my home and my village?", where I allow the slow days to cloud my vision. I left her home hours later than expected, but rejuvenated as always and headed home.
On my way, the 11 year old sent the familiar text, "Can Bruce* come over?" This name I didn't know, but the answer is yes all the same. See, it has never been uncommon for any member of my family to bring people home. Sometimes they're here for a day, sometimes it turns into a few months. You never know, really. Lately, the boys have had a lot of friends over and from about 3 pm to around 8 pm there are various children running about our home. Several are the same familiar faces we've known over the years, occasionally it's a one time face, and often a new face. I love when they bring their friends over, because that means my kids are home and safe.
The 14 year old had a friend over as well and the 4 boys jumped on the trampoline, blared the surround sound on the patio, dancing to the multitude of Prince songs on the radio as the world collectively mourns a great man's passing and did as boys do. Hours later, 4 smelly, sweaty, happy boys sat at our dinner table and ate some kind of beef noodle dish I made up on the fly because we all have those days that completely derail ... and then there's dinner .. and you're like .. damn ... right... these people have to eat dinner everyyyyy day. Anyway, so around 8 pm I let the boys know it was time to send their friends home, with a reminder they had an hour and a half to complete chores, homework and showers. The 14 year old's friend, who we've known for years, knows the drill, said his goodbyes and headed home.
My 11 year old however, seemed to think I was in damn super mood because he said, "Can Bruce spend the night?" Ummmmm, I know that kid knew it was a THURSDAY and it's a school night and what the what? We don't even know this kids parents! They don't know us! Huh? The husband walked into the room on his way to the kitchen and I let him know what the 11 year old asked, but as I was speaking, I looked over at Bruce and I wanted to say "yes" because the way that child looked at me, expectantly ... but with hope. I glanced at the husband and he could see the look in my eyes that said, maybe. I mean, if they went to sleep on time and got up in the morning, could it really be a big deal? I asked Bruce how his parents felt about him spending the night on a school night, he responded with, "They said yes. Since we're living in a motel now and there's not a lot of space, they're ok with it." Honestly, I'm not completely sure why that shocked me as much as it did.
Yup. Those are the words, or pretty damn close to them. I don't remember who responded first, but the husband and I said yes. I did not know his family or his situation or how long they've been living in a motel or why they're in a motel, but if a kid tells me he's living in a motel and wants to spend the night at my house, I don't care night of the week it is - they're welcome here. (I do not intend to imply there is anything wrong with living in a motel, we all have different walks and different paths. I do mean to imply, that staying the night in an openly spaced home with a friend is probably more comfortable for an 11 year old active boy than a motel room)
My 11 year old offered to let Bruce borrow his clothes, but I just can't feel right about having someone's child overnight in my home when I haven't bothered to introduce myself. So I told the boys we'd go over to his home so he could get some clothes and I could meet his parents. We piled into the car and drove just down the road to an extended stay motel we've driven past a million times but never actually paid attention to. And yes ....ok, yes, I was so damn curious. Because it's me, and I think I can save the damn world one soul at a time and maybe they needed help finding resources and you-just-freaking-know-me-and my-bleeding-damn-heart but if someone is living in a motel ... there's a reason. When we pulled up, Bruce got out of the car slowly while my 11 year old cheerily asked if I was coming with them. Duh, kid. Of course I am. Bruce walked slow and I jokingly chastised the boys for being slower than a 40 year old. The 11 year old accepted the challenge and began bounding up the stairs, realizing he did not know where he was going, he allowed Bruce to take the lead and we arrived at the front door just a bit breathless from our little game of chase. Bruce knocked on the door and after a short wait, someone on the inside opened it, very slowly. Upon seeing Bruce, the man opened it a bit more and was shocked to discover my 11 year old and I standing there. I smiled warmly and spoke in my normal "oh my hell did she used to be a cheerleader?" chipper voice, "I'm (my kids) mom, We came to get Bruce's things." Bruce walked in the door and I saw a woman in the room and waved "hi", then the door shut, closed. Just like that.
So, we waited. I could tell the 11 year old was nervous, it was a strange situation for him. Thoughts raced in my head ... damn ... that was rude .... why are they being so secretive... what is taking so long ... are mom and dad working ...do they need help... do they know about the local labor service... The door opened and Bruce came out with clothes in hand (not in a bag, in hand) and I noticed a young girl, maybe about 8, in the room. She smiled, so I waved, smiled and said "hi' and the door was shut again. We walked down to my car and headed home. When I don't know what to say, I just say what I want, so I delicately asked how long they lived there because I remember my son saying they used to live in the neighborhood. Bruce began to talk and told a story of a family struggling, in many areas, and in many ways. He told a story of a family trying to recover from the consequences of the universe and how difficult that reality can truly be. I'm always trying to find the bright side, so I asked if he knew any school friends who lived there also. No. Damn. No. He was the only kid he knew at his school who lived in that motel. My heart was sad, I imagined that must feel lonely. He said there were other kids, but he didn't hang out with them because they wanted him to steal from the retail store across the street. Um.. ok, next question. I asked if he liked this motel better, he said yes, but the last one had 4 cook burners and this one only had two. Ummmm, If I was standing in a room, I would have smacked my head on the wall in that exact moment.
4 cook burners. 4 damn cook burners. My conscience called me a judgmental asshole. Because I was judging. I drove up to a motel and damn I hate to admit it was a stereotypical scene. A large woman in a tank top that would barely fit my 6 year old niece lounged about her doorway, as an man who was high on way more than life, stared at her lustily. A few young children ran about the parking lot unsupervised. A Chevy Blazer pulled up with a woman behind the wheel, she wore a tank top and jeans and her hair was strewn about and windblown, with some of it remaining in her disheveled bun. Next to her was a young boy, maybe 14 or so, no shirt, no shoes. He got out of the car with what I'm sure was supposed to be his exuding of authority, but instead I saw a defensive young man glaring at me, questioning my intentions and watching me carefully as I walked past him, two young boys in my wake. The woman I assumed to be his mother, yelled at him sharply and disrespectfully to get his attention to help get things out of the vehicle. There were nice cars in the parking lot, but ... not so nice ones also. I was reflecting on all of that as this boy told me the last motel had 4 damn cook burners.
When I returned home, I reminded the boys to get a move on and set about on showers and homework. I checked on them 5 minutes later and overheard my 11 year old say something about stealing oven burners. I walked in to the room and asked who was stealing what burners? Bruce looked away from me and I could tell he was uncomfortable. My child spoke in this tone he has, the one where he's trying to play something off like it is so not a big deal, like, how silly, "He said, oh his dad said "why are you telling people where we live?" and I was like, what, like we're gonna steal your oven burners." I know what my son was attempting to do, but he's 11, so give him a break. l looked Bruce in the eye and spoke with intention, "Please tell your dad I'm so sorry if I upset them. I can completely understand why he would be uncomfortable. He doesn't know us or anything about us and I'm so sorry if I embarrassed them by showing up like that." He lightened up and explained his dad had been sleeping and his mom was watching a movie so that's why they didn't come say hi. I said again, "Honey, no worries at all. They weren't expecting me. Now y'all finish your homework and get a move on." Then my 11 year old said confidently, "See, I told you my mom was nice." Bruce looked at me with a smile and said, "My mom is nice too."
I walked to my room and oh freaking hell yes, I cried because I am a judgmental asshole. I drove up to a scene and created a judgement in my head, I assumed his life was not adequate because I applied my set of circumstances and reasoning to his situation and that my friends ... is not what we are here to do. It is not. His situation may not seem ideal, but it is his and his family's. I assumed, ASSUMED, there was something wrong with his situation because it did not resemble the situation I feel like I need to provide for my family. HE SAID HIS MOM WAS NICE! Of course his freaking mom was nice, because people are people and families are families and love is love.
Sure, his dad more or less shut the door in my face and perhaps I would have if I were him also. I'm sure my chipper ass can be quite a shock and I'm sure they have their own emotions over their situation. I get the feeling they were embarrassed, but I get the feeling, they feel that way for valid reasons.
I remember a time in my childhood when we didn't even own couches, I was about 10. We sat on lawn chairs in our living room because our mother had taken the furniture. I remember being judged by my classmates. I remember not wanting to have people over. What I remember most though, were the people who loved me anyway because our lack of couches or money had nothing on earth to do with who we were. I remember the mothers who still picked me up and brought me along with their daughters to events. I remember the friends who sat on the lawn chairs with me and never mentioned the fact that we were sitting on lawn chairs. I remember the ones who acted like my life was still normal, because it was, it was my normal. Our situation changed and improved over the years of course. Now, at 40, with a family of my own I'm sitting in the 5 bedroom house my family and I live in, within walking distance of the elementary, junior high and high school my children go to with a neighborhood playground down the street. I'm typing on my laptop, with my swanky vapor pipe nearby, 102.1 the Edge playing the radio, in my trendy big legged comfy pants, in my office, glancing at my newish (2 month old cell phone) thinking ...it was only 8 years ago that we lived in my brothers house as our home went into foreclosure and ... damn I can be such an asshole.
When I was 10, I didn't need anyone's judgement, I didn't need anyone to fix my family nor did my dad, we were working on fixing it ourselves. I didn't need anyone to do a damn thing but accept us exactly as we were and maybe that's all Bruce and his family need as well. Technically, I've met his parents, and that's good enough for me. He's spending the night again tonight and we're having a few other kids over to make smores by the fire pit, jump on the trampoline and enjoy the simplicity that is childhood bliss. We'll spend the night creating memories because I have a busy work week planned next week. Tomorrow, I'll take Bruce home with a note, thanking his parents for allowing him to stay over and I'll invite the family over for dinner sometime next week. Maybe they'll say yes, maybe they'll say no. Maybe it'll go great and maybe it'll be a disaster, but I am only here to love my neighbors exactly as they are. Maybe I can help them find a way out of their situation or maybe I'll learn it's none of my damn business. But what I will be, is intentional about remembering not to be such a judgmental asshole and to love honestly and without expectation.
I'm positive it's a lesson I need and I'm grateful that the Universe smacks me in the face once in a while.
******************************************
*Bruce - no, his name isn't Bruce. But I sure as hell didn't want to use his actual name to protect his privacy. Bruce is however, my adorable fluffy dogs name. Actually, it's Bruce Wayne, but I didn't want to steal his name completely you know.
It's been a slow income week for me, but not a slow week by any means. I've spent a lot of time taking care of family obligations. I've been spending time on my website and structuring my business. But the slow weeks are the ones in which you have to stay the most motivated, so I happily accepted an offer to have a brainstorming session with one of my dearest friends yesterday. Like I, she has a vision for the souls she encounters in her village and has an amazing vision for a business that helps break cycles of dysfunction. We specialize in different areas, but our vision is one and the same in many ways. We spent hours talking, and not enough hours planning, but the chatter is so important and relevant. I shared that I experience human moments, where I think, "Crap, can I really support my family this way? Can I take care of my home and my village?", where I allow the slow days to cloud my vision. I left her home hours later than expected, but rejuvenated as always and headed home.
On my way, the 11 year old sent the familiar text, "Can Bruce* come over?" This name I didn't know, but the answer is yes all the same. See, it has never been uncommon for any member of my family to bring people home. Sometimes they're here for a day, sometimes it turns into a few months. You never know, really. Lately, the boys have had a lot of friends over and from about 3 pm to around 8 pm there are various children running about our home. Several are the same familiar faces we've known over the years, occasionally it's a one time face, and often a new face. I love when they bring their friends over, because that means my kids are home and safe.
The 14 year old had a friend over as well and the 4 boys jumped on the trampoline, blared the surround sound on the patio, dancing to the multitude of Prince songs on the radio as the world collectively mourns a great man's passing and did as boys do. Hours later, 4 smelly, sweaty, happy boys sat at our dinner table and ate some kind of beef noodle dish I made up on the fly because we all have those days that completely derail ... and then there's dinner .. and you're like .. damn ... right... these people have to eat dinner everyyyyy day. Anyway, so around 8 pm I let the boys know it was time to send their friends home, with a reminder they had an hour and a half to complete chores, homework and showers. The 14 year old's friend, who we've known for years, knows the drill, said his goodbyes and headed home.
My 11 year old however, seemed to think I was in damn super mood because he said, "Can Bruce spend the night?" Ummmmm, I know that kid knew it was a THURSDAY and it's a school night and what the what? We don't even know this kids parents! They don't know us! Huh? The husband walked into the room on his way to the kitchen and I let him know what the 11 year old asked, but as I was speaking, I looked over at Bruce and I wanted to say "yes" because the way that child looked at me, expectantly ... but with hope. I glanced at the husband and he could see the look in my eyes that said, maybe. I mean, if they went to sleep on time and got up in the morning, could it really be a big deal? I asked Bruce how his parents felt about him spending the night on a school night, he responded with, "They said yes. Since we're living in a motel now and there's not a lot of space, they're ok with it." Honestly, I'm not completely sure why that shocked me as much as it did.
Yup. Those are the words, or pretty damn close to them. I don't remember who responded first, but the husband and I said yes. I did not know his family or his situation or how long they've been living in a motel or why they're in a motel, but if a kid tells me he's living in a motel and wants to spend the night at my house, I don't care night of the week it is - they're welcome here. (I do not intend to imply there is anything wrong with living in a motel, we all have different walks and different paths. I do mean to imply, that staying the night in an openly spaced home with a friend is probably more comfortable for an 11 year old active boy than a motel room)
My 11 year old offered to let Bruce borrow his clothes, but I just can't feel right about having someone's child overnight in my home when I haven't bothered to introduce myself. So I told the boys we'd go over to his home so he could get some clothes and I could meet his parents. We piled into the car and drove just down the road to an extended stay motel we've driven past a million times but never actually paid attention to. And yes ....ok, yes, I was so damn curious. Because it's me, and I think I can save the damn world one soul at a time and maybe they needed help finding resources and you-just-freaking-know-me-and my-bleeding-damn-heart but if someone is living in a motel ... there's a reason. When we pulled up, Bruce got out of the car slowly while my 11 year old cheerily asked if I was coming with them. Duh, kid. Of course I am. Bruce walked slow and I jokingly chastised the boys for being slower than a 40 year old. The 11 year old accepted the challenge and began bounding up the stairs, realizing he did not know where he was going, he allowed Bruce to take the lead and we arrived at the front door just a bit breathless from our little game of chase. Bruce knocked on the door and after a short wait, someone on the inside opened it, very slowly. Upon seeing Bruce, the man opened it a bit more and was shocked to discover my 11 year old and I standing there. I smiled warmly and spoke in my normal "oh my hell did she used to be a cheerleader?" chipper voice, "I'm (my kids) mom, We came to get Bruce's things." Bruce walked in the door and I saw a woman in the room and waved "hi", then the door shut, closed. Just like that.
So, we waited. I could tell the 11 year old was nervous, it was a strange situation for him. Thoughts raced in my head ... damn ... that was rude .... why are they being so secretive... what is taking so long ... are mom and dad working ...do they need help... do they know about the local labor service... The door opened and Bruce came out with clothes in hand (not in a bag, in hand) and I noticed a young girl, maybe about 8, in the room. She smiled, so I waved, smiled and said "hi' and the door was shut again. We walked down to my car and headed home. When I don't know what to say, I just say what I want, so I delicately asked how long they lived there because I remember my son saying they used to live in the neighborhood. Bruce began to talk and told a story of a family struggling, in many areas, and in many ways. He told a story of a family trying to recover from the consequences of the universe and how difficult that reality can truly be. I'm always trying to find the bright side, so I asked if he knew any school friends who lived there also. No. Damn. No. He was the only kid he knew at his school who lived in that motel. My heart was sad, I imagined that must feel lonely. He said there were other kids, but he didn't hang out with them because they wanted him to steal from the retail store across the street. Um.. ok, next question. I asked if he liked this motel better, he said yes, but the last one had 4 cook burners and this one only had two. Ummmm, If I was standing in a room, I would have smacked my head on the wall in that exact moment.
4 cook burners. 4 damn cook burners. My conscience called me a judgmental asshole. Because I was judging. I drove up to a motel and damn I hate to admit it was a stereotypical scene. A large woman in a tank top that would barely fit my 6 year old niece lounged about her doorway, as an man who was high on way more than life, stared at her lustily. A few young children ran about the parking lot unsupervised. A Chevy Blazer pulled up with a woman behind the wheel, she wore a tank top and jeans and her hair was strewn about and windblown, with some of it remaining in her disheveled bun. Next to her was a young boy, maybe 14 or so, no shirt, no shoes. He got out of the car with what I'm sure was supposed to be his exuding of authority, but instead I saw a defensive young man glaring at me, questioning my intentions and watching me carefully as I walked past him, two young boys in my wake. The woman I assumed to be his mother, yelled at him sharply and disrespectfully to get his attention to help get things out of the vehicle. There were nice cars in the parking lot, but ... not so nice ones also. I was reflecting on all of that as this boy told me the last motel had 4 damn cook burners.
When I returned home, I reminded the boys to get a move on and set about on showers and homework. I checked on them 5 minutes later and overheard my 11 year old say something about stealing oven burners. I walked in to the room and asked who was stealing what burners? Bruce looked away from me and I could tell he was uncomfortable. My child spoke in this tone he has, the one where he's trying to play something off like it is so not a big deal, like, how silly, "He said, oh his dad said "why are you telling people where we live?" and I was like, what, like we're gonna steal your oven burners." I know what my son was attempting to do, but he's 11, so give him a break. l looked Bruce in the eye and spoke with intention, "Please tell your dad I'm so sorry if I upset them. I can completely understand why he would be uncomfortable. He doesn't know us or anything about us and I'm so sorry if I embarrassed them by showing up like that." He lightened up and explained his dad had been sleeping and his mom was watching a movie so that's why they didn't come say hi. I said again, "Honey, no worries at all. They weren't expecting me. Now y'all finish your homework and get a move on." Then my 11 year old said confidently, "See, I told you my mom was nice." Bruce looked at me with a smile and said, "My mom is nice too."
I walked to my room and oh freaking hell yes, I cried because I am a judgmental asshole. I drove up to a scene and created a judgement in my head, I assumed his life was not adequate because I applied my set of circumstances and reasoning to his situation and that my friends ... is not what we are here to do. It is not. His situation may not seem ideal, but it is his and his family's. I assumed, ASSUMED, there was something wrong with his situation because it did not resemble the situation I feel like I need to provide for my family. HE SAID HIS MOM WAS NICE! Of course his freaking mom was nice, because people are people and families are families and love is love.
Sure, his dad more or less shut the door in my face and perhaps I would have if I were him also. I'm sure my chipper ass can be quite a shock and I'm sure they have their own emotions over their situation. I get the feeling they were embarrassed, but I get the feeling, they feel that way for valid reasons.
I remember a time in my childhood when we didn't even own couches, I was about 10. We sat on lawn chairs in our living room because our mother had taken the furniture. I remember being judged by my classmates. I remember not wanting to have people over. What I remember most though, were the people who loved me anyway because our lack of couches or money had nothing on earth to do with who we were. I remember the mothers who still picked me up and brought me along with their daughters to events. I remember the friends who sat on the lawn chairs with me and never mentioned the fact that we were sitting on lawn chairs. I remember the ones who acted like my life was still normal, because it was, it was my normal. Our situation changed and improved over the years of course. Now, at 40, with a family of my own I'm sitting in the 5 bedroom house my family and I live in, within walking distance of the elementary, junior high and high school my children go to with a neighborhood playground down the street. I'm typing on my laptop, with my swanky vapor pipe nearby, 102.1 the Edge playing the radio, in my trendy big legged comfy pants, in my office, glancing at my newish (2 month old cell phone) thinking ...it was only 8 years ago that we lived in my brothers house as our home went into foreclosure and ... damn I can be such an asshole.
When I was 10, I didn't need anyone's judgement, I didn't need anyone to fix my family nor did my dad, we were working on fixing it ourselves. I didn't need anyone to do a damn thing but accept us exactly as we were and maybe that's all Bruce and his family need as well. Technically, I've met his parents, and that's good enough for me. He's spending the night again tonight and we're having a few other kids over to make smores by the fire pit, jump on the trampoline and enjoy the simplicity that is childhood bliss. We'll spend the night creating memories because I have a busy work week planned next week. Tomorrow, I'll take Bruce home with a note, thanking his parents for allowing him to stay over and I'll invite the family over for dinner sometime next week. Maybe they'll say yes, maybe they'll say no. Maybe it'll go great and maybe it'll be a disaster, but I am only here to love my neighbors exactly as they are. Maybe I can help them find a way out of their situation or maybe I'll learn it's none of my damn business. But what I will be, is intentional about remembering not to be such a judgmental asshole and to love honestly and without expectation.
I'm positive it's a lesson I need and I'm grateful that the Universe smacks me in the face once in a while.
******************************************
*Bruce - no, his name isn't Bruce. But I sure as hell didn't want to use his actual name to protect his privacy. Bruce is however, my adorable fluffy dogs name. Actually, it's Bruce Wayne, but I didn't want to steal his name completely you know.
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