Oklahoma Dreaming: I Just Want to Be a Good Person!

by Donna Schoenkopf

last time: week from hell

My political science professor, back in 1989, told us that there is a pretty good way to define liberals and conservatives. Conservatives think that human beings are basically flawed and that unless there are laws and regulations and police and other repressive institutions in the society people's lives will be short, nasty and brutish. Hobbes said that. No, not the Hobbes from "Calvin and Hobbes." The philosopher, Hobbes.

Liberals, on the other hand, think human beings are basically good and The System is what screws them up.

I have always thought of myself as a liberal. Nay, socialist. Nay, communist. As left as you can get.

But last week, I doubted the liberal line. Last week I became a selfish, nasty, brutish rat. (Was it The System that screwed me up, or just my basically flawed character? YOU tell ME.)

A true life parable:

The days here last week were perfection. Highs in the 70s and crisp, cold nights in the 40s. Skies that were blue with occasional wispy white clouds. No wind. Perfect building weather.

We missed three days of good weather because Clint, Peewee's favorite work buddy, has a horribly bad back. Excruciating pain down his left leg. Clint is a quiet, HARD working guy, with a sweet smile. He has been working on the sliding doors with PAIN as his constant companion. He is heroic. I could see the stiffness in him late Friday afternoon as he was finishing hanging the last of six sliding glass doors.

Peewee and Clint don't come Monday. Clint's back is bad. Hospital. Bed rest. Chiropractor. I totally understand.

 

Tuesday I drive out to my property from my little duplex, knowing that Peewee isn't there. I know this because he always calls me on the mornings that he IS there. He says (when he's there), "What're YOU doin'?" I always tell him ... at the library doing my blog story, or doing the laundry, or cooking, or something else that has nothing to do with building a house. Then he tells me he's at the property and starting whatever project we have at the moment. Every building day begins this way.

So I know as I drive up the county road to my driveway that he is probably not there. And if he's not there, Clint isn't. And if they're both not there, there will be no work done today.

So where IS everybody????

I call Peewee on the phone. I ask him, "Where IS everybody?"

He tells me about Clint's back. It's bad. MRI time. Shots in the spine. All kinds of intensity.

I feel terrible. Guilt washes over me. Guilt, because I feel as though the day is precious and we aren't utilizing the gift Nature has given us ... a perfect building day. For ME. I feel doubt seeping into my faith in Peewee, Clint, HUMANITY. I feel like a capitalist pig because I am letting my own self-interest come between me and Clint's back. I want to be sympathetic to my brothers' and sisters' needs. I want to be GOOD. But there is still a squiggle of self-concern as I think about Clint and Peewee.

I try to be patient. I talk to myself. I grit my teeth to gain control over my selfishness.

Here is a "learning to be patient" story INSIDE the true life parable:

Several years ago I started to get obsessive about being on time. If I had something I had to do days or weeks ahead I would start to think about it obsessively. And worry over it. And have it nagging at me continually, until I had no peace. It was becoming ridiculous. I couldn't enjoy my life. I was always tense about the future.

So I decided, after enduring a miserable "on time" fixation for several years, that I would DELIBERATELY make myself late. Then I would see that the end of the world wouldn't happen if I WERE late and I would be released from the curse of scrupulous on-timeness. Sort of like going up in a glass elevator if you're afraid of heights.

I started practicing my lateness before work. I would wait until I was good and ready to leave in the morning. This meant that I would read the L.A. Times leisurely and take my time with my Sudoku puzzle. I would savor my coffee. I would say, to myself, "GOOD! You're going to be late!!"

That took a lot of the stress out of my mornings. I could literally feel my muscles unclench and my breath and heart relax. I was RARELY late, however. (Can you imagine how early I'd have been if I had left when my little biological clock told me to?)

Back to the true life parable:

All this is to say that I have been kinda stuck on using the beautiful days to build because I am feeling the old pull of "being on time" yanking my chain. I TRY not to push. I TRY to flow with it. I talk to myself about it. What the hell difference does it make WHEN I get into the damn house? It is the JOURNEY that is important, NOT the destination.

These little personal talks didn't do much good, however, when I drove up to my building site yesterday. No one there. My heart sank.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

I call Peewee. He apologizes for not calling, several times. I gracefully tell him there's no reason to apologize. But I think he hears the slight edge in my voice as I tell him that I was just worried about missing the good weather building days.

He says, "Oh, don't worry about that."

Easy for him to say. I push myself to trust him. Let go of your damn timeliness/selfishness, Donna!

So I leave Chigger Lake. And I do other things. I watch TV, and buy stuff at Kmart (Halloween candy, some bras), eat dinner early, sweep the floor, watch the Democratic Presidential Debate (favorites: Biden, Edwards, Kucinich AND THE MISSING MIKE GRAVEL), and mull things over. I go to bed, late. And stressy. I am thinking about ME and MY house. Not Clint and his back. Not Peewee and all the marvelous things he's done for me. Just ME, ME, MEEEEE!!!

Today, Wednesday, no call from Peewee. I meander around the duplex. Sure is a pretty day out today. PERFECT building weather.

No ...... call.

Could this mean that there will be no work again today? Does this mean that I have to reign in my control freak self?

So I drive out to the building site and ......

THERE THEY ARE!!!! Peewee and Clint!!!

Clint is sitting in a plastic lawn chair, measuring and marking trim for the windows and doors. He told me last week that the worst thing for his back was standing. (Remember how I saw how stiff he was at the end of a day of drilling, carrying and lifting?) Peewee is on a ladder putting up the trim. It is like a scene from Christmas morning.

I cannot tell you how I felt when I saw them. My two knights in shining armor. In spite of horrendous pain, Clint is there working for me and my crummy house. Peewee is there astride a ladder, pushing metal and screwing screws.

People ARE good!! How could I ever have doubted?

Which all goes to show ...

Have faith in your brothers and sisters, love your neighbors, and let ... go ... of ... your ... control ... freak ... self.

I repeat, it is the journey, not the destination.

Rose Bird, Supreme Court Justice of California, said that.

Now, go give your neighbors a hug and tell them you love them.

next time: tidbits