a life devoted
to helping
the longer I do it
the more mysterious life seems to be
it was, at first, unsettling
but now
it comforts me.
It’s like starting over
a new place
new ways to serve
new policies, new clients
I bring with me
all of my past experiences
But, lucky for me
it all seems fresh, in a way
I’m back to square one
the Buddhists call it “beginner’s mind”
openness, and an open heart
not knowing what to expect
just showing up.
(me, 2008)
I wrote this during my orientation for a new job at a free clinic that served the most vulnerable in an inner city. We had two full weeks of orientation, which involved meeting with people and observing people and services and attending groups. The clinic had a variety of groups there to engage folks in a safe way; one of them was a writing group. It wasn’t about the writing, itself, but about using the writing, the expression, to process. To relate to the world. And since I’m a writer, that was probably my favorite hour of the entire two weeks.
I came across this poem the other day for the first time since I wrote it (yes, I am cleaning out my closets because of the pandemic). And it brought me to tears, because I’ve been writing stories about my work and other interactions with folks, all about what I’ve learned about being of service. When I was 22 and in grad school, and for a long time after, I thought I knew, but I didn’t. Now I know that I DON’T know shit, and I experience people being of service to each other all the time.
I just sat here and wrote for a long while, and rambled all over the place, trying to find a way to convey what it means to me now. And I know I wrote a paragraph in a Facebook post once, where I just sort of spouted out a sentence or two that DID capture what being of service means to me now….but I searched and couldn’t find it.
Instead, I found this. And I cried again when I read it, I remembered the beauty of that day….so here it is. I’m going to keep writing about being of service. But for tonight, I offer this.
\”I went to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. There was an elderly woman walking towards the counter. The girl behind the counter-25 if she was a day-politely asked me if she could tend to the woman before me.
\”of course,\” I replied.
I then stood there for five minutes as I watched this pharmacy tech treat this 91-year-old woman (the woman didn\’t have to, but she said the year when asked her birthdate, so that is confirmed) with so much gentle dignity and respect that I was holding back tears. She was kind and didn\’t rush her and told her which buttons to push and the warmth and respect she showed was palpable.
And then I went to 7-11 to get juice and snack to take back to work. It\’s 95 degrees with 1000% humidity here.. An older man, frail, sitting in a wheelchair with cash in his hands, hearkened me over, and asked if I would contribute so he could buy something. I asked what he wanted to buy. A pack of Newports. He needed three more dollars. I took his five singles, went in, bought my snack and juice (and an extra juice for him) added the three bucks and got him the cigarettes. I walked out and he was talking to a younger man who seemed to know him a bit. The younger man was trying to get him to call a mental health provider with which I\’m familiar, I asked the man if he had a place to live He said he was renting a room but didn\’t like it. He also said he just went to Social Security for the first time to apply for SSI. His eyes were red and watery but full of joy, and when he smiled you could see his two front teeth were missing.
I talked with him and the young man for a few moments, and tried to encourage him to seek services at a wraparound provider I am very familiar with. I asked his first name, and gave him mine. as I was walking to my car he yelled \”MISS! MISS!\” and I turned and he smiled big and said, \”thank you so much. You are an angel.\”
I got in the car and cried, for both those interactions. For that young girl treating that 91yo woman so tenderly, For that man sitting out in the heat panhandling for smokes and helpless to advocate for himself but engaging and grateful. For my own ability to keep my heart open in the face of these, when sometimes it is so touching it hurts my heart.
I love humanity.\”