Last November, our region got hit with a "bomb cyclone" that knocked out power for days. On one of those days, my wife and I took our dog for a walk to survey the damage (downed trees, etc). We ended up passing a neighbor's house down the street just as she was exiting her front door. We'd seen her face from afar plenty of times, but she and her family were strangers to us. For years.
She saw our dog, and we knew she owned a dog, so we chatted a moment-- all the icebreakers were coming together. One thing led to another, as they do, and she brought up her turtle, Sisyphus. (I know nothing about turtles.) She and her husband were in a panic. They'd inherited this turtle from an ex-son-in-law, and-- now stuck with him-- were doing the best they could. He needed to live in a certain water temperature. But, with the power out for days, they couldn't keep his bathwater warm, and they were afraid of harming or even losing him.
We said, "Hey, we've got a generator, and power at our house. We'll watch Sisyphus." When I tell you she was floored, she was floored. It honestly was no trouble (like, none), but she and her husband couldn't believe it. They carried him and his little bathtub down the street to our house, and we watched him til the power came back.
I'll wind up the story here, but the point is: before the storm, Mel and Duda were strangers. Now-- even though we don't know much more than their first names-- I don't consider them strangers anymore. They've been in our house, they've brought us chocolates, and I feel like we could count on one another. I think they'd say the same.
"When do you consider a person to no longer be a stranger?" This question comes at an opportune time. Being physically far from my family and long-time friends, I've been thinking a lot about how to build a personal community, make friends and deepen those relationships, especially this week. Sometimes it takes a while, sometimes it's wonderfully and surprisingly immediate, but somebody that creates an opening, a safety for vulnerability is the common denominator for me. It always surprises me when somebody does that, and it's particularly gratifying to encounter it across the digital divide. Thanks for this thought provoking question. I am happy you are surrounded by a nurturing magic.🥰
Also, cenotes are amazing, one of those creations of nature that feel made up in fantasy lit.
How lovely!!!! Thanks for sharing your Joy!
How to like your like?! I feel grateful, Tammy! I'm still feeling the positive energy from your 100 day challenge!
Last November, our region got hit with a "bomb cyclone" that knocked out power for days. On one of those days, my wife and I took our dog for a walk to survey the damage (downed trees, etc). We ended up passing a neighbor's house down the street just as she was exiting her front door. We'd seen her face from afar plenty of times, but she and her family were strangers to us. For years.
She saw our dog, and we knew she owned a dog, so we chatted a moment-- all the icebreakers were coming together. One thing led to another, as they do, and she brought up her turtle, Sisyphus. (I know nothing about turtles.) She and her husband were in a panic. They'd inherited this turtle from an ex-son-in-law, and-- now stuck with him-- were doing the best they could. He needed to live in a certain water temperature. But, with the power out for days, they couldn't keep his bathwater warm, and they were afraid of harming or even losing him.
We said, "Hey, we've got a generator, and power at our house. We'll watch Sisyphus." When I tell you she was floored, she was floored. It honestly was no trouble (like, none), but she and her husband couldn't believe it. They carried him and his little bathtub down the street to our house, and we watched him til the power came back.
I'll wind up the story here, but the point is: before the storm, Mel and Duda were strangers. Now-- even though we don't know much more than their first names-- I don't consider them strangers anymore. They've been in our house, they've brought us chocolates, and I feel like we could count on one another. I think they'd say the same.
"When do you consider a person to no longer be a stranger?" This question comes at an opportune time. Being physically far from my family and long-time friends, I've been thinking a lot about how to build a personal community, make friends and deepen those relationships, especially this week. Sometimes it takes a while, sometimes it's wonderfully and surprisingly immediate, but somebody that creates an opening, a safety for vulnerability is the common denominator for me. It always surprises me when somebody does that, and it's particularly gratifying to encounter it across the digital divide. Thanks for this thought provoking question. I am happy you are surrounded by a nurturing magic.🥰
Also, cenotes are amazing, one of those creations of nature that feel made up in fantasy lit.
Ahhhh, a beautiful writer's retreat. It's been too long since I've gifted myself thus. Thanks for sharing the inspiring images.