scribblechic

Throughout our move I have been humbled by the generosity of others; close friends and companionable acquaintances have consistently shown up in the disorder of our need and stood beside us, actively helping us process the demands of our choice.

On days when I could not see my own needs for the chaos of our work, others provided comfort and care with meaningful offerings of purposeful aid. Meals and muscle, pet care and child’s play; there was no false pride or martyrdom, no posturing of strength in stubborn refusals in my acceptance. I recognized the kindness in each offering and learned a new language of strength by honoring my limits.

I had previously assumed my independence was a greater measure of ability, priding myself on self-sufficiency. I similarly judged others for decisions that placed them in a position of vulnerability with passive aggressive criticisms that were directly correlative to their need and my expectations of accountability.  Strength is not so easily measured by need or ability.

For all the years I said “no” to an experience because the unknown demanded vulnerability; for every criticism I privately harbored for someone else’s display of need; for every cautious excuse that allowed me to disengage from uncertain success – I misvalued my community and my worth.

Friends do not wait for permission to love one another with acts of care, we fill our arms with efforts and our hearts with an openness that leaves room enough in our expectations for imperfect choices. This is what I have learned over long days of worries and endless to-do lists. We are stronger together.

Tagged: Community, Moving, Musings, Self, Strength