One step at a time…
Announcing the date at the heading of this entry, “September 4,” I’m struck with the sense of calendrical time moving very quickly. It wasn’t yesterday that September was tomorrow, and here it is yesterday was September.
It’s dark outside today, city lights and freeway traffic headlights visible over my left shoulder as I glance out into the evening. It’s almost 8 PM. Usually I would’ve written these words and then taken myself to the dinner table for YouTube videos, conversation, and food to wind down the day.
New patterns insist that I will have to rethink these old pathways.
Helping LB organize some structure today in the form of creating a calendar to help him develop his focus and more easily account for his responsibilities, created new events on the weekly calendar for me as well.
He and I and the lady P will now be sitting down three days a week in the evening for a Gurdjieff style study group and once a week for a house meeting. All of this means that I will need to attend more strictly to a dinnertime, an artifact that will bring me back in line with earlier meals, likely a good thing overall.
“Edge case” I said the other day, “you are a human edge case.” I was sitting in the sunroom with LB explaining some this or that detail that we needed to pay more attention to tending well. Quite literally until he met us, or rather, until covid, his life had been directed and supported by our collective constructs in efforts to monetize his considerable skill on the basketball court.
Where almost anyone I have ever met has at least some range of skills, his are almost exclusively limited to getting from bed to the three-point line and hearing the “swoosh” of the perfect shot passing through the hoop.
From the leathery omelette, to an uncanny ability to wander off task, or the simpleminded certainty that he already knows whatever it is he’s about to learn, there is nothing that would have me keep this person employed to be my care. Nothing that is, except the beautiful broken open innocence of his bright eyes and clear heart.
He absolutely has kindness and absolutely wishes to be of service. He is not clumsy, nor generally forgetful or absent-minded – his range of experiences remain limited and occasionally he must be shown something more than once to get it in rotation, but that is like most of us I think.
I’ve been struck by the absolute MettaCare of the situation. This young man has presented himself to us serendipitously and is eager to learn and to grow. He has the capability of a man’s body, with the innocence of a 13-year-old, and the benefit of having puberty behind him.
The Lady P and I have agreed, there is work to be done here, work worth doing. And what, after all, would MettaCare be about if it were not to recognize the ways each and every one of us have fallen through the cracks in one way or another, to find that place, and to begin to care from there?
LB and I retired to the garage this afternoon to route a cable and rewire the hot water heater. We had started this task a few weeks ago he needed to order a part. As you might imagine, basic skills of the electrician were not on the menu when we began. Fortunately I’ve done a few things of this nature myself in the past and was quite pleased today to see how quickly my young friend was rising to a sense of competence, clarity, and ease, even beginning to see ahead in the project little bits at times.
Meanwhile I continue to refine my skills in the STAGE ’s scoring and will be complete with my latest task in that regards, with luck in time for a call with an old friend midmorning tomorrow.
Patience and Uma are just back from the evening walk, and the fan in the hallway pulls cool evening air up into the otherwise scorching attic in hopes that we will not bake tonight from the radiant ceilings. Tomorrow is scheduled to bring temperatures over 100°. Wish us well.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…