Loving Your Neighbors ... Next Level
This is an excerpt from the weekly News-Loveletter. If you would like it sent to your inbox directly (with all the other juicy bits, including a mini joy practice), you can add yourself to my mailing list here.
Living in town, it's easy to focus on people. They're to my left and to my right. If the walls of our houses were laid down, we'd stand almost side by side, visible to all while drinking coffee, folding laundry, or reading a book on the floor plan of our home.
I remember walking through a ghost town and standing on one foundation while speaking with Seda beside me on the foundation "next door." We are all much closer than we think.
The wilder ones—birds, fox, mice, raccoons, and voles—live amongst us, too. On barren ground, there is less to nourish them. We've planted trees and bushes to welcome them home. To protect and feed them. We're getting a closer look at our wilder ones, and they're coming in closer as well.
The crow calls to me in my office when she arrives hungry on the rail. A baby garter snake moves from one flowering bush to another, seeking protection from the sun and my curious gaze. Seda is surrounded by a flock of tiny birds while she waters the garden. An alligator lizard suns himself on the path behind my cabana.
I'm getting comfortable in this bigger family. I feel flattered that our wilder friends hide from us less and seek our offerings more.
Seda and I have been wanting to better house the birds. Until our trees grow up, houses would help our winged community to grow forth and prosper. We admired the bird house of some friends in their yard.
"Oh!" said Julie. "My dad made that." And what a lot of love went into the artful house. Every corner trimmed to fit, each detail sanded with care. Of course we wanted one, but the expense with shipping felt out of range.
Then Julie and Camee showed up with an unexpected gift. "This is from me and my dad," said Julie.
And this is a joyful thank you going out you both. Craftsman Robert Staub, your work is a masterpiece. It brings together our dear human community, Julie and Camee, with extended family (you!) to offer sanctuary to our bird community. Julie, thank you for seeing our commitment to winged friends and helping us live that value beautifully.
We can't wait for the lichens to decorate its roof. Abundance is in community. Thank goodness that community, like gratitude, always stretches further than we might ever have imagined.
May we live with love beside one another, sharing surprises and making home together.