Jeremiah 29:11
“Do you have a few minutes?”
“Err.”
“We’d like to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About Jehovah.”
“And what he can do for you.”
I’m walking down my driveway. A bin in each hand. On my way back from yoga. After stretching my body. And Zen.
I saw them coming as I drove up the street. In a line. Two-by-two. Like chosen pairs on their way to the Ark. To ensure life as we know it will be saved. Whilst knowing it’ll never be the same.
Again.
Convinced I’d evaded them. I made my move.
But. I miscalculated.
The man with the bucket hat and wonky moustache, smelling my fear, approached. With an eager apprentice 3-steps behind.
Caught out. Like a deer in headlights. I considered my choices.
I took a deep breath. And. A step back.
Hardly a controversial truth, but I didn’t want to engage.
But I did anyway.
Not because I was people pleasing. Or because it was the “right” thing to do. Not because I knew my neighbours were home and didn’t answer the door when they knocked.
I did it because The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F**k may be a brilliant book.
But.
It’s not a philosophy I can always live by.
And.
Because I made a commitment. To myself many years ago. That I would stay true to two core beliefs:
That every invitation to connect, is an opportunity to teach or be taught.
And.
Irrespective of what I am being sold, or by whom, they deserve the respect of a reply.
This approach takes time. And energy. A lot of both. Along with people often telling me I’m naïve. Un-boundaried. Too nice.
But.
It’s a conscious choice. An active demonstration of who I am when no-one is looking.
Like being on LinkedIn since 2013 and replying to every professional message I’ve ever been sent.
Every. Single. One.
Research shows 90% of professionals have been ghosted at work - ignored emails, unreturned messages. Around 75% of people report being ghosted in dating. 61% of job seekers experienced silence after interviews.
We've normalised non-response as boundaries, being ignored as being acceptable. And chosen Casper over courage. And character.
Wonky moustache man’s name is Rob. And it turned out he wasn’t trying to sell me anything. He simply wanted to share a passage from his Bible he felt may resonate.
Jeremiah 29:11.
It did.
I don’t need to be a follower of Jehovah to appreciate a gift of openhearted connection, that I almost missed with blinkers of closed-minded righteousness. And judgement.
They left minutes later. After I thanked them and we shook hands. I’m sure I was the only person on my street who opened the door.
Not because I couldn’t say no. Or because I’m a soft touch.
But.
Because I believe the art of giving a f**k should be anything but subtle.
And.
In my humble opinion, it’s time to write the sequel:
“The Necessary Art of Giving One.”
H2BH 046/365
