Story Time
I’d like to tell you a story, one where my adult children were slightly appalled and incredulously questioning my sanity.
My story begins one fine weekend in May -when the temperature had just started to show signs of warming up. My sun starved self was ready to prepare my yard for the upcoming warmer weather. To that end I decided to shop and buy new yard furniture. I knew that I wanted stable chairs with ample cushions that would allow for my nearly 6 foot tall build to sit comfortably. The chairs would needed to both rock and swivel. Who wants a stationary chair when you’re sitting outside for pleasure?
I finally found a set of two chairs and a table at my local Costco. I arrived with the trunk of my SUV cleaned out and back seats down to accommodate the load. Once in the warehouse I found an associate who could measure the box for me. He assured me if I had an SUV it would fit. It didn’t.
Outside I suggested unloading the items from the box, since it was the box that didn’t want to fit into the hatch’s opening. The associates helped me unbox the items. They lifted the first chair into the hatch and NOPE was not going to fit. Since the frame was solidly constructed all I could do was take the smaller items home and search for an available neighbor with a pick up truck to help me bring the chair frames home.
I have lovely neighbors next door and across the street. I’ll text George and see if he can help me. He immediately replied; “I’d love to help you but I am out of town this weekend, and I lent my truck to my cousin. I’m sorry.” Uh-oh. The cashier at the store told me I could rent a U-Haul or Home Depot box truck, but I really didn’t want to do that. Still I hopped back into my SUV and searched for another possible option.
In my spare time, I am a frequenter of several local hiking trails. Whether walking or birding I make sure to say hello to passersby, much to the chagrin of my adult children. “Mom, they don’t want to talk to you or say hi. Leave them alone” I persist in making eye contact and speaking an appropriate greeting.
I turn the corner and I see one of my neighbors sitting on their porch. I spy a pick up truck in their garage. I tentatively pull into the very end of their driveway. I slowly get out and approach the man on his porch. It just so happens to be a cyclist who knows me as a “bird lady” on the trail. We exchange pleasantries. I ask about recent rides now that it’s warming up. He asks about my success birding. I then gather the courage to ask:
“Chuck, you can totally say no to this… But I was wondering if I could pay you gas money to help me pick up some chairs I just bought at Costco?”Chuck barely lets me finish my question and blurts out; “You NEED Me?”
I reply; “Yes, if you’re willing to come with me, I’d love help to pick up my new chairs.”
Chuck responds; “Wait right there, let me tell my wife, and grab my keys, I’m ON IT!” with far more enthusiasm than I would have offered if a similar request was made of me.
Chuck followed me to Costco. Opened his hitch and secured my two chairs in with his ratchet straps. He happily followed me home and helped me unload them. Once again I offered him cash for gas and his time. He refused. But in our earlier exchange Chuck had mentioned other neighbors on our block (that I have never met despite living in this neighborhood nearly 30 years) and how they like to drink coffee together. I ran inside grabbed him a 1# bag of my favorite coffee and offered it to him as a sign of my appreciation. Chuck received my offering with a big smile and he departed.
The odd thing was how good I believe this simple exchange between acquaintance neighbors made us both feel. They have different political views than I do- as I’ve seen by the signs they put in their yard. But we hold similar values when it comes to time spent in nature, appreciating parks and trails, gardening (they have a huge one, mine is a simple kitchen garden) and answering the call of a neighbor in need.
I returned home and when my kids got back from their day's activities, I recounted the story. Incredibly, my daughter was so surprised that I asked a stranger for help. The thought of asking a neighbor for help never occurred to her. “That seems rude, weren’t you anxious?”
This is where our lived experiences differ. I grew up in a time when neighbors knew each other, waved and said hello, offered sugar or eggs if another neighbor ran out and grocery stores were closed. My daughter grew up in the time of stranger danger, making yourself small, being independent to a fault and having difficulty asking for help. Not from lack of me imparting neighborliness on her, but from her ingesting the messaging from school, media, friends and extended family. Strangers are to always remain - Strangers.
I’m sad for her, that she doesn’t believe that sometimes people can be selfless and help a neighbor, just because they can, they are asked and they want to. It’s a much friendlier world we live in when we are willing to act as if others are open to cooperation and caring gestures.
Now that neighbor and I wave each time we pass each other's houses. I am sure we will say hello if we run into each other on the trail. I for one will feel the trail is that much safer knowing he is potentially on it.
What would it take for you to summon courage, bravery, vulnerability to go out on a limb and ask a neighbor for a favor? Or simply to say hello and greet them warmly? Believe it or not, finding the strength and energy (despite the fear) to engage in such a quest might be the beginning of the end of your social anxiety.
Quail Hollow Park Bench on a Spring Day, Trees blooming with Pink flowers, Image by Lynette Kreidler