When a stranger extended an offer of help recently, I was mystified by the motive yet amazed by its randomness and generosity.
But when a second person entered my life just as randomly with information that was helpful to my business, I no longer felt the offers were random.
So I paid attention which was not what everyone would have done, considering the fact that the offers came from strangers out of the blue.
Nor was it something I would have done ordinarily, considering I have a hard time accepting well-meaning offers from my friends. That includes casual kindnesses extended by neighbors who say over the fence in a sincere and unintrusive tone, “I’m happy to watch your kids, drive you to the airport, pick you up after you put your car in the shop or take care of things when you’re out of town.”
The truth is, I usually refuse all favors. Even when I’m in an emergency. And even though those same neighbors stand there across the fence all nestled and protected by the branches of tea olive and climbing roses that soften any potential devisiveness a fence could theoretically conjure up. Somehow the fence separates me not only from them but also from any direct sense that I must accept anything, even a favor. Circuitous thinking but true to form for me.
Why do I do this? Why do I push these nice people away? How can I forget that Robert Frost made being neighborly an All-American form of giving when he taught us that “good fences make good neighbors?”
The first offer wasn’t extended in person over a fence but it was left on my voice mail which meant it had a better chance of my not turning it down. Coming across a little like a 1960’s random act of kindness, it was a timid message asking me to call if I needed help. Unusual wording, yes. I didn’t call, because the voice was so hesitant and the message said so little, even though the person had the same name as someone I knew, which was strange.
But I was curious and I believe in returning phone messages so I called. No one answered. I left a message that I was returning the call though I hadn’t understood its purpose.
A young woman called back, apologizing as a way of introducing herself, and explaining she’d found my writing business on the Internet. “Do you have any envelopes you need stuffed?” she asked. “For free, I’m volunteering,” she added. “Anything you need doing?”
I figured she’d run out of luck in finding a job and she wanted to get her foot in the door with the hope I’d pay her but then the mysterious offer struck me as somewhat sweet. I thanked her and said, “No, it’s a little premature but maybe someday.”
I liked the vision her offer reinforced in my head of being overwhelmed with mail orders so I stuck her phone number on the refrigerator. Not having a clue about her real motive, I chose to read it as positive. Maybe she was a sign I needed to ask for help more often (which is true), team up with others to achieve my goals (which is true), and recognize that people want to help (which is also true).
The second encounter happened several weeks later in the form of an e-mail inquiry which I read because it didn’t look like spam. It was from a freelance writer wanting a partner. Though I wasn’t interested, I answered and we compared experiences. His e-marketing strategies, all unsolicited, were an extension of my marketing knowledge though at first glance, I didn’t want to listen; I thought I knew as much about those subjects as I needed to know.
The first offer had introduced a possibility I’d considered and put on the back burner so it reaffirmed my vision. The second reaffirmed my strategies and instincts. Both reminded me that the gift is in the giving and that it’s important to receive through opening ourselves to new ways of thinking.
I didn’t have to accept any or all of the offers to benefit.
That’s why they happened and that’s why I listened. I didn’t have much to lose – just time, possibly - and everything to gain.
How do we know when to listen to interruptions and when to brush them off? We don’t. But I needed to rediscover how to keep on learning just when I was most resistant to change, and most in need of opening myself to new ideas. Had I not responded, I would have missed out on some serendipitous encouragement and insightful coaching.
It’ll probably take me my whole life to learn how to be a better receiver but I do know it comes easier when I make a conscious effort to open my eyes to answers that might be completely counter to what I think I want to see, or should see.
During the holidays it’s important to be the giver, too. To give freely as these two people did. Just throw an idea out there and see what happens, tossing aside any notion we could gain something in return.
And when offers come in forms we don’t expect, they often bring delightful solutions that set us on a whole new course.
A different perspective is as refreshing as a week away from responsibility and routine, when the unfamiliar becomes just as inviting and cozy as that flower-covered fence dividing yet uniting me and my neighbor.
