I Shall Sleep Well Tonight

I had to be up very early due to a 9:30 job interview. Another of the agencies in town is looking to add teachers to their supply/substitute teacher list. Although my lunch hour class prevents me from subbing during the day, I can do so evenings and Fridays.  I thought the three women on the panel and I got on well.

After that I changed clothes and spent some time lesson planning for next week until it was time to head over to my favourite cafe where I was to buy lunch for the two women who helped me get the job at the Y.  Even though I can’t afford things like lunches out yet, I thought it was important to show my appreciation now rather than making them wait indefinitely for my financial situation to improve.

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The cafe–which will go unnamed this time in order to protect the identity of the stranger about whom I am about to blog–was packed to the gills even though it was past one o’clock.  I was surprised to find my friend S sharing a table with a young woman whom I did not know.  I introduced myself and was quickly informed by S that the two of them had only just met. They were each sitting alone and so decided to sit together. I smiled at such spontaneity and sat down by S on the pew-like bench against the wall, wondering where our friend H would sit when she came.

S told me that the young woman, whom I’ll call Zoey, was in the middle of trying to share a dilemma she was facing. Zoey was having trouble spitting it out. It was apparent that she was in some distress and was getting worked up.  ”Breathe,” I said, smiling.  She apologized to us.  I told her not to worry, she was reminding me to breathe, too.  We all took some deep breaths together.

When our friend H arrived, she pulled over a now vacated table from beside us. We were now four. While H seemed a bit perturbed by the intrusion of this stranger, I was impressed that S continued to be patient with her even though she didn’t do much more than glance nervously about, try over and over to say something, get herself worked up and then return to her deep breathing exercises.  Yes, it was awkward, but I was just very proud of S for not telling this young woman to get lost.

S and I did manage to do a little bit of visiting, as did H and I. But really the whole planned outing was derailed. Mind you, when these things happen to me alone, I pretty easily release the mental picture I had of how the rest of my day was “supposed” to go.  When they happen to me and Sylvain, it is still cool because he is also a big softy who believes in helping others and being open to spontaneous exchanges.  It was a little more difficult with two women…one who is a former coworker and one who is a current coworker; I am not terribly close to either of them.

Tiny pieces of a story emerged, one bit slowly extracted at a time.  She had felt afraid last night all alone.  I wondered if she was homeless but didn’t want to come out and admit that she was sleeping on the streets.

For once I wasn’t overly controlled by the need to keep everyone happy.  I gave more weight to what I wanted, and what I wanted was to include this woman in our lunch. We bought her a bowl of brown rice with raw veggies.

Soon S had to get back to her responsibilities.  I was surprised that H did not lunge at the chance to extricate herself, as well, from the very awkward situation.

H tried to engage Zoey. She asked her some questions, like “Do you have a safe place to sleep? Do you live with someone?”  Zoey’s answers seemed cryptic to H.  H told Zoey to cut it out and give her some straight answers.  I came to Zoey’s defense. I understood the cryptic answers and translated for H.

In the middle of attempting to answer some of H’s questions, Zoey started to cry.  She held herself in a hug and looked at her lap as her little body shook at the tears came.  I reached my hand across the table and offered it.  She took it.  She looked into my eyes.  I looked back, smiling calmly, putting as much love and pure acceptance into my gaze as I knew how.  She apologized for confusing us.

“I can’t speak for others,” I said, “but you’re not confusing me.”

Snippets of the story started to emerge.  Not too long ago, she had decided she didn’t need her medications anymore.  The boyfriend who normally looked after her was in Toronto for the weekend.

“You can’t do that,” H said.  ”You can’t just stop taking your meds without talking to your doctor. I should know! I tried it once!”  We all laughed.

And then the energy changed.  H stopped squirming, stopped resenting the intrusion.  Zoey started talking about aromatherapy and how many oils she has at home. H happens to be an aromatherapy massage practitioner.  Now Zoey was looking into H’s eyes and saying what a pretty ring she had on.  ”Tar-zhay, Baby.”  They laughed.

“Shall I get us a pot of tea?” H offered.

“Oh, yes! Something calming,” I suggested

H went to the counter to order the tea while Zoey and I sat holding hands, remembering to breathe and gently smiling at one another.

Slowly… oh so very, very slowly…she managed to eat some of the rice.

H returned with a pot of jasmine green tea and three cups.  It smelled heavenly.  The aroma had a healing effect on us.

Zoey, for an entire ten minutes straight, was no longer gripped by whatever demons were keeping her mute and stammering before. Whole sentences flowed from her. She smiled and made sense.  The citrus oils make you sun sensitive. She was still holding my hand.

The conversation became relaxed.  We were smiling. Even though we were talking about some serious things, like the fact that Zoey had missed an appointment with a nurse practitioner that morning, we held it all in the Light.  We all make mistakes.  We are all human. We are all just trying to find our way.  Eat your rice.

When the tea pot was empty, H said it was time for her to go.  I have her a big hug and she whispered, “Are you going to be okay?”  I squeezed her hand and assured her I was fine.

I spent the next hour with Zoey as she tried to decide whether to take me up on the offer of a ride to her cousin’s house. While Zoey nibbled away at the rice bowl, I stepped outside to call Sylvain and explain why I was running late for our yard work date.  When I said I might be giving a ride to a woman who was having a mental health crisis, he did make me promise to be safe but didn’t try to stop me.  We understand each other in these things.

Decisions were laborious.  We finally decided that I would leave her at her apartment. She promised to call a friend if she got scared to spend another night alone.  But then she couldn’t decide whether to accept my offer of a hug. She wanted a hug, but she wasn’t sure she could manage it.  Do you remember those hokey sci-fi shows on TV when you were a kid? There was a recurring plot where there would be a hole in time or a doorway to another dimension.  In order to get through, the actors had to run at it in just a certain manner…hold their arms just right. If they didn’t, the doorway wouldn’t open and let them through.  That’s how Zoey approaches things like opening doors and trying to put her arms out for a big, long hug.  She had to get it just right or she couldn’t go through with it.

She got it just right.  I gave her one of those good hugs my old friend Suzanne taught me to give.  Ironically, my friend Suzanne also has bi-polar disorder.

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I got to Sylvain’s house in time for supper.  We got a chance to talk while he changed into gardening clothes. After supper we tackled two of the items on the Honey Do list: replace the broken hose reel on the side of the house, prune low hanging branches off several trees and chop up the branches to put them in the yard waste bags for tomorrow’s pickup.  We were unsuccessful in completing #1, but we did get a lot of pruning done, including removing a big nightshade and a mulberry sapling that were strangling the lilac bush.

By the time we put the tools away it was around 9:30 and dark.  NINE THIRTY? It was almost my bedtime, and I still had a blog story stuck inside my head!

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I got on the elevator in the underground parking garage. The elevator stopped on one and a woman got on. She took one look at me slumped against the wall and said, “Somebody’s tired.”

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When I logged on, knowing I would never sleep until I unloaded this story from my noggin, I saw a comment from Lynn pointing me to these words on another blog:

“..To those who serve unselfishly-
bringing light into darkest corners with a warm smile
or a tender touch…
To those who give lovingly from their hearts daily
to perfect strangers…”

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