So yesterday my wife and I were out doing our little Community Cleanup project. (Okay, quick side note. So, I started this clean-up project on August 4, 2019...the day after the mass shooting by a racist domestic terrorist in El Paso. I felt helpless, and I wanted to do something to try to make the world a little better. Cleaning the ditch bank was something that was doable and in my power to do. It may not be jumping in front of bullets, or doing field surgery to save someone from bleeding to death, but of the 100 plus pounds of trash around half of it is glass, the majority of which is broken. Each shard of glass I pick up is a shard that won't go through a foot or a paw, that won't cause a life threatening infection. I've picked up used syringes, some right next to a middle school; there's a couple kids that won't be exposed to Hep C or HIV. I'm creating a cleaner environment for humans, animals, and plants. And, I'm hoping that people will see what I'm doing and start being more engaged in taking care of our community as well. What affects one of us, affects us all after all.) Anyway, back to our original programming...
As I'm out there picking up trash I usually have a couple people who are walking by thank me. I've often thought that my response should be, "thank me by picking up any unbroken bottles you see, because they will soon be a pile of 100's of shards of glass, and I spend the majority of my time picking up little bits of glass." And not because I want to be a passive aggressive dick, but because I want people to take ownership of our community, I want them to feel the sense of accomplishment and connectedness I do when I do this, and because every time I go out there is a brand new pile of broken glass in a stretch I've already cleaned, and I get disheartened and overwhelmed and I know I can't do this alone. But that isn't my response. It's always, "thank you."
Yesterday was a little different. One of the passersby called out a "thank you", and I responded as usual. But she didn't take it. "No. (PERIOD) Thank YOU!" I had to pause for a second, and remember what the correct response was...oh, yeah. "You are welcome!" Now why the hell is my response to "thank you for cleaning up the ditch bank" a "thank you" of my own? Well, because I am grateful that someone is acknowledging what I'm doing, and expressing their gratitude.
I don't do what I do for approval, kudos, or acceptance. I do it because it makes me feel good that I've maybe make the world a tiny bit better, even if no one notices. I do it because taking care of my community in whatever way I can is the right thing to do. And yet it is weird, and uncomfortable just to take a thank you, and graciously return a "you're welcome."
I suppose this is just another symptom of the patterns I developed to navigate my world early on. It is my job to take care of others even if they have more resources than I do. Because it is my JOB to take care of others it would be shameful to expect acknowledgement or gratitude for doing what is my responsibility to do. And it is my job to not have needs, and definitely not express them. I've been having a very fertile crop of realizations about my dysfunctions around care-taking lately; I'll save the others for another day, but this is one that is ripe for picking. It's a small thing, a simple thing, but learning to just say "you're welcome" is an important part of the journey. And it's a part of allowing for the appropriate exchange of gratitude...how dare I snatch peoples gratitude away, dismiss it. It's possibly as important to accept a thank you, as to give one.
As I'm out there picking up trash I usually have a couple people who are walking by thank me. I've often thought that my response should be, "thank me by picking up any unbroken bottles you see, because they will soon be a pile of 100's of shards of glass, and I spend the majority of my time picking up little bits of glass." And not because I want to be a passive aggressive dick, but because I want people to take ownership of our community, I want them to feel the sense of accomplishment and connectedness I do when I do this, and because every time I go out there is a brand new pile of broken glass in a stretch I've already cleaned, and I get disheartened and overwhelmed and I know I can't do this alone. But that isn't my response. It's always, "thank you."
Yesterday was a little different. One of the passersby called out a "thank you", and I responded as usual. But she didn't take it. "No. (PERIOD) Thank YOU!" I had to pause for a second, and remember what the correct response was...oh, yeah. "You are welcome!" Now why the hell is my response to "thank you for cleaning up the ditch bank" a "thank you" of my own? Well, because I am grateful that someone is acknowledging what I'm doing, and expressing their gratitude.
I don't do what I do for approval, kudos, or acceptance. I do it because it makes me feel good that I've maybe make the world a tiny bit better, even if no one notices. I do it because taking care of my community in whatever way I can is the right thing to do. And yet it is weird, and uncomfortable just to take a thank you, and graciously return a "you're welcome."
I suppose this is just another symptom of the patterns I developed to navigate my world early on. It is my job to take care of others even if they have more resources than I do. Because it is my JOB to take care of others it would be shameful to expect acknowledgement or gratitude for doing what is my responsibility to do. And it is my job to not have needs, and definitely not express them. I've been having a very fertile crop of realizations about my dysfunctions around care-taking lately; I'll save the others for another day, but this is one that is ripe for picking. It's a small thing, a simple thing, but learning to just say "you're welcome" is an important part of the journey. And it's a part of allowing for the appropriate exchange of gratitude...how dare I snatch peoples gratitude away, dismiss it. It's possibly as important to accept a thank you, as to give one.
No comments:
Post a Comment