One morning I was trying to reach a handyman to do some work in my home. I was given a phone number for him. I knew he got up early so I called his number at about 7:30 a.m. A voice answered, and when I asked for the person I was looking for, he said, “You’ve got the wrong number.” I repeated the number and he waited patiently and then said, “You’ve got the wrong number.” I apologized and in the most upbeat, warm, loving voice he said, “It’s all good baby!” The warmth in his voice cheered me all day. He simply exuded friendliness and warmth, and it opened me.
A few days later I received a phone call at my home. It was a solicitation call for some business. A woman’s tired voice repeated her script. I cut her off, and began to snap at her: “We are on a no call list.” Suddenly I remembered “It’s all good, baby!” and I could feel the dramatic contrast with what I was bringing into the life of this woman and into my own. I heard the weariness in her voice. She was already hanging up, as I said, “I know it’s not your fault. Have a good day.” As I put the phone down, I felt clumsy and somewhat dull inside. I wondered about what is happening in her life. I imagined she was a single mother trying to support her child. Who knows what her story is? I was left with the heaviness of my energy towards her and how I lived that shared moment of our lives.
I reflected on what I bring into the world with each contact. How do I take care of myself, and find the ground and spaciousness to pause, to feel the richness of connection, and the joy of “It’s all good, baby,” no matter what is happening? Even in the midst of weariness, anger, deep sadness and grief, where is the connection to the aliveness that is right there? How do we live each moment just as it is with everything we have, knowing deeply that these are the only moments we actually do have?
