Lamyra Lyon taught me to drive in her chocolate brown 1966 Pontiac Lemans. While a key life skill, it didn't compare to what else she passed on. Lamyra was a poet and a teacher. The lesson I recall most often is her claim--"If someone hands you a gift (or compliment) it's like handing you a cream pie. If you don't receive that gift graciously, you're pushing that cream pie back in their face."
I was sure it was my neighbor's problem. She's fed my cats, all 7 of them, over the years, with me on trips longer than a month. She's the kind that will actually sit with them and let them scold her. She has shared the fruits of her gardens, brought little gifts on holidays, picked up mail, put the garbage out on the street. If the power is out, she is the first to make a bed by her fireplace. She has my extra key. I figure I must have done something really good in a former life to have moved in two doors down from this lovely woman. But there is one thing that nags me about this relationship. This neighbor will not let me do anything in return. Can't take/cook her a meal. Can't do anything reciprocal. So of course I do, but it always feels awkward. I've been bothered by her reluctance to receive anything from me. And why it bugs me. It feels like being held at a distance, which encourages me withhold.
As lessons do when they unfold, client S gave me an opportunity to receive. "Sure!" I say to her. "I'll text you my address." Because I offered to coach her without payment, she needed to send me a token of her gratitude. I don't encourage it, but I try to be gracious when gifts are offered, and push no cream pies. I had successfully accepted a handmade, woven scarf from another woman, I thought quite gracefully. But the day the package from S arrived I was stunned by my reaction. The thoughtfully wrapped envelope contained a dainty necklace that says "unconditional" and the other gift is the softest white t-shirt in the Universe that says, "WARRIOR." These are both symbolic and thoughtful gifts that refer to two ways of being that we share and aspire to. Her note is well-written in thoughtful gratitude.
I found out receiving is not just my neighbor's problem. I am struggling to receive this lovely gift. And I can't find a way to talk about what I'm feeling. The first clue is that something was off because it's the kind of gift that would normally make me cry. And I didn't. Which made me feel ungrateful. Which paralyzed me. And tied my tongue. And made me curious.
Seems like I expect others to just receive when I offer coaching, but when they reciprocate and want to give a gift, I balk when asked to receive. I am my neighbor. What a sorry sight to think that people like me that are here to give something will always be challenged by a reluctance in people to receive--and if I'm not mindful that includes me.
As usual, Brene Brown humbles us with, "Until we can receive with an open heart, we're never really giving with an open heart. When we attach judgment to receiving help, we knowingly or unknowingly attach judgment to giving help." Admittedly I have to spend some time with this to fully understand how this might be true of me. But at this point here's what I know.
The reason re-considering our receiving capacity is so important is that when people give like S gave, they are giving their love. Reluctance to accept it leaves whipped cream faces and a missed opportunity to rebuild our bankrupt culture one act of giving at a time. We owe it to ourselves.
Dear S,What a treasure to receive your beautiful and thoughtful gifts. Thank you for the love contained. I know you are using that same thoughtful creativity to help transform lives. Continue following your big heart. Unconditional and fearless. 💖
Love, Tonia
That picture makes me smile. I'm learning to receive.
ReplyDeleteThat picture makes me smile as well. It's how I always see him in my memory eye, hugging some random person somewhere completely and fully.
ReplyDeleteYep, these are tough times for a hug master.
ReplyDelete