I wear my personal values like clothing but have moments of nakedness, physically and emotionally. The physical nakedness can look good on me but discarding my personal values, the way it strips me bare, does not. Tolerance, kindness, charity and humility are some of the personal characteristics I cloak myself with but I stumble sometimes and when they fall away I'm left exposed and subject to something else; Fallibility.
I write often about personal failure in my diary. I want to acknowledge it. I write also, about naked moments when I'm stripped bare of my values or principles, not been who I wish to be and, curiously, it's those values circling back to support my emotional self that provides the impetus to seek a better me.
Generosity is one of those values and I couldn't think of a better subject to write about for my first #weekend-engagement blog. It's through generosity I've been rebuilt many times; generosity from others, my own outwardly and most importantly, generosity unto myself.
I'm proudly independent though it has caused me stress and complication at times; I'll go without before asking for help which comes from having to stand alone, unsupported, from an early age, but...
I found myself jobless and homeless some time ago; I'd ended a relationship and the person cast me from the home and business where I worked as the manager. I'd expected that, but not as rapidly or brutally as it had occurred; a day later I was in a wretched and filthy hostel with a few meagre possessions.
I was distraught, lost and frightened, mostly clueless but still glad to be out of the relationship.
I needed work and a nook to sleep in but there wasn't much on the horizon and my aversion to accepting help didn't make it any easier. My friends were more the other person's friends and weren't much help but one mentioned someone who might have an opportunity for an interim period. The catch was he was disabled, wheelchair-bound, which didn't seem much of a catch at all.
I arrived, with our mutual friend to make the introductions, and we hit if off immediately. I moved into the small, but quaint and comfortable, home that day happy to have my tiny room with a window overlooking the park next door and a feeling of safety.
We became close friends in the five months I lived there; he was a funny, charming, vibrant man who understood life's beauty and how quickly it can turn ugly. He was a complete gentleman and, among other things, insisted on cooking us breakfast every Sunday over which we'd talk, laugh and cry and I began to understand the true meaning of humility, generosity and kindness. We were two broken people who, through kindness, understanding and patience mended some fractures.
I landed a job two weeks later and began paying for my room despite his insistence I did not have to; my company was the most valuable thing, he'd say. I paid though and made myself useful around the house small though it was. I cleaned, cooked, picked up the autumn leaves in the small yard, took out the trash and laughed at his questionable jokes, quite terrible for a man of his intellect. It was a lovely time of my life, a catharsis. I felt safe, valued and valuable and have held my own personal values much closer and as much more important since; I'm naked less and less, emotionally.
A year after I moved out my friend passed away. I can't remember ever having cried more than I did then and I still cry now. He was a beautiful human who taught me so many things. He is the man I measure all others against, and most fall well short.
I do not have much in life, just what I need: Life itself, health, food, shelter a possible future and the ability to see myself clearly. I don't have much money but feel wealthy, or many friends but feel content. I also have, and perpetuate, the kindness and generosity that beautiful broken human showed me and I think that would put a smile on his face, even as thoughts of his smile bring me to tears.
I've been fortunate and unfortunate, endured and enjoyed life and its myriad of experiences. My friend was one such experience and through our association I found facets of myself I had never expected to rediscover. Through that beautiful man's kindness, humility, openness and deep generosity I became a better me, maybe the true me, and I shall forever be in his debt although I'm unable to repay it.
Thank you for reading this entry for the weekend-engagement 97 blog prompt contest.
Becca 💗