Beyond Tired

The woman who sits on the stoop out front of our building is tired. Her body is tired, it doesn't even sit up straight. Her voice is tired; it strains to form sentences. Her soul is tired, she leans away from connections.

My neighbor sounds irritable when I greet her and after a few encounters, I found myself judging her and beginning to dislike her. I changed my perspective, perhaps the only thing we really own, and viewed her fatigue, her anguish, and my compassion took root. I found myself wondering what this woman had lived through, gone through, to be so very tired.

Our buildings are tired, here at this co-op. They are in need of care that not one of us alone seems to be able to give. But when you get past the tiredness and the protectiveness, there is a vitality, a connection to each other. I needed help last night with a problem, a BIG problem, and one of the other cooperators, as we are called, rushed to assist despite the exhausting heat.

There is a community here, underneath the sagging exterior. And I am thankful. More importantly, my perspective has shifted. I am getting skilled at owning my view, my interpretations. It is the only thing I have, really. So I look behind the peeling paint and I see the history of centuries. These buildings we call home are CENTURIES old. Sure, they sag and wrinkle, they lean when they should stand upright. But, I see history here, people living together, different races, religions, ethnicities have lived here long before "desegregation" was even a word.

So, I walk slowly at night, following a long day at work, and I will continue to stop to talk to my tired neighbor. A bond will form, sure it will. It's all in our perspective. And, that is wide open.