Tilling

Today while I was behind a cash register a senior male customer came and said to me," Don't you wish you'd married rich so you don't have to sit there?"   I answered, "Actually, I'm a volunteer."  And he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

I've been working for a couple months now,  twice a week, at a charity thrift store that sells furniture and other things.  Was pleased to get trained for the first time in my life as a cashier.  Though I'm not so great with math I'm good with money.  Apparently that sufficed.

In a way I have a hard time saying "my job" or "I'm working", as if not getting paid makes this position, and me, less smart or respect-worthy or diligent.  In reality I'm as reliable, hard working and professional as if I was getting paid.  And for this season and some ongoing dynamics of my life I am finding huge rewards and joy in this...job...there, I said it...volunteer though it be.

As one of the first people customers see in the store I get be a receptionist too, answer all sorts of questions and enter into countless mini conversations with a great variety of characters from all over town.  It's like a social smorgasbord where all the personality dishes are delivered straight to my counter.  It's also a wonderful place to serve up my quick wit like a short order cook, feeding incoming masses with speedy bites of humor and lightness for the day.  My brain and my heart are loving it.

To top it all off, I'm getting to know some co-workers, paid and not, some of whom are distinctly not boring. A few are even creative spirits and great partners in subtle absurdity which makes a mutual feast, albeit suitably hushed and straight-faced, out of so many store scenarios.  In short, for now at least, I'm enjoying the sense of community and the experience of being enjoyed and appreciated for my personality and my, yes, work in this particular world of volunteering,

Grad - ually

    Last weekend I took part in the graduation service for our group who survived the 27 week, twelve step program called "Freedom Sessions".  Each of us had 2 minutes to give a statement about three things: 1.Why we joined Freedom Sessions 2. Our major breakthroughs or lessons learned  3. How we plan to give back after all we've received.

   It was hard to muster up what I needed in order to even attend the evening.  As I said to those gathered, it was like I was Jacob, wrestling with the angel of the Lord for 27 weeks on Friday nights and I was still limping.  It was tricky for me to come up with a giving back commitment.  The obvious one for me in the past would have been serving as a facilitator/discussion leader for the next year.  Right now I'm still feeling like the wind has knocked out of me and that's the last thing I could do.  I did say that I'd continue blogging about this process and creating art about it, as well as making an effort to stay in community in some form.

   I wonder what people feel like who've had open heart surgery and if it's like this.  I guess this has been more like an open soul procedure.  There are some times now when I have a firsthand sense of what "normal" and "whole" is.  Miraculous, really.  Still many others, though, like this afternoon, when I'm off kilter, desperately lonely and wanting to escape it all.  I guess one point of progress for me is seeing more clearly exactly what triggers this.  Today it was discovering people going to a concert within their apparently blissful network of friendships and me being, still, completely outside this world that, for me, is like the ultimate candy store.  Our Freedom Session workbooks would ask something like:  Do I believe God cares about this?  How would someone act in this situation who believed God cared about them? I now have more than my default response to choose from.