Service has never been so important.
“Self-isolation” and “social distancing” are the new norm. Doors everywhere are being shut. People are hoarding supplies and preparing for the worst. It’s in times like these that our true nature is revealed. For some it’s an excuse to withdraw, to do less, to focus on self and ignore the needs of others. It’s justified. It’s understandable. It’s expected.
But these are the times when heroes step forward. Instead of giving in to fear, they rise above it. They look outward, seeing the needs of others, and boldly step up to the plate. They don’t wait for someone to ask for help. They see a need and act to fill it.
Cue my parents. They’ve always been heroes to me, but I couldn’t have been prouder to see this Facebook post.
Sunday, March 15, 2020 – 7:26 PM
This afternoon the mayor of Nashville, in issuing some corona virus guidelines, made this statement, “as a community we must come together and take care of one another.” Earlier today we stopped at the Walgreens close to our house to pick up an over- the-counter allergy medicine. As I walked past one aisle I heard someone say, “Oh, they don’t have any either.” I noticed the empty shelf and stopped. I asked the older lady if she was looking for toilet paper. She said yes and she had been to four other places and couldn’t find any. Her husband was in the car as she had just checked him out of St. Thomas Midtown for congestive heart failure. They needed toilet paper. I told her that I lived just down the street and if she wanted to follow me home I had some extra she could have. She took me up on the offer and we sent her home with 4 rolls. Turns out she had been to my house before at my yard sale. She recognized my house! Who would have guessed that taking care of your neighbor would come down to sharing toilet paper with a stranger.
I’ve always felt that the best acts of service are the small gestures. It can be inspiring to read about super-human acts of bravery and self-sacrifice, but those opportunities are (thankfully) few and far between. The real service heroes are those who find small ways to help those around them. It might be a small word, a small act of service, or a small donation of toilet paper that makes the biggest difference.
As a species, we are designed for community. We need meaningful interaction with others to remain healthy, productive, and fulfilled. That’s actually what service is. Service is looking beyond yourself to see others and their needs – and then acting on it. It’s not waiting for someone to ask for help. It’s proactively offering what you have to give as a means of addressing that need for connection. Time and again we see that community trumps isolation, especially in the worst of times.
In the days ahead, let’s be mindful to keep our eyes, ears, and hearts open to those around us. Let’s seek out opportunities to lend a hand vs. pulling it back. We need to stay safe, but that doesn’t mean we can’t remain neighborly. We need each other now more than ever.
Japan has a turtle problem. Specifically, the West Japan Railway Company has a problem with turtles in the Nara Prefecture. Here, the track runs close to the ocean and turtles periodically fall between the rails at switch points as they try to reach the water. They become trapped and are killed when the track switch is thrown to reroute trains onto a different section of track. This is obviously bad for the turtle, but it’s bad for the railway too. When the switch can’t close properly, it causes delays that cost the company and its customers time and money.
This weekend I had the opportunity to see “1917,” the new film by director Sam Mendes. It’s an intriguing story about a couple of young soldiers sent to deliver a crucial message to troops on the front lines of World War I in France. Mendes wrote the story after hearing tales of his grandfather who himself served as a messenger during that conflict.
I recently came across an article about Alfred Cheng. He’s an artist from Hong Kong who uses thread to create realistic portraits of celebrities. What’s amazing about Cheng’s art is that he uses a single thread to craft each of his masterpieces; and that thread is 5,000 meters long. That’s 15,000 feet of thread!
Last week we had to have a tree removed from our front yard. It had contracted some form of disease and sections were dying off, eliminating the shade it provided and rendering it an eyesore. I hated losing that tree – it anchored one side of the house and the curb appeal has been negatively impacted by its removal. Nevertheless, we knew it had to be done, so on Thursday morning the crew we’d contracted for the job arrived.
Leaders ask questions.
I’m currently binge-watching season five of Alone. This History Channel program follows 10 survival experts as they each survive alone (that’s where the name comes from) in the wilderness. Separated from each other by several miles and with no contact with the outside world, they are left to carve out an existence using limited resources, their experience, and whatever internal fortitude they can muster. The participant who lasts the longest wins.
While traveling last week, I popped into Dairy Queen for a post-meeting milkshake. As I approached the counter, the cashier looked up and asked “How can I help you?” Before I could answer however, he spoke again. “You know, I can give you the senior discount.”
If you are of a certain age, you may be familiar with the name Marilu Henner. A film and television actress, Henner became famous for her role as Elaine Nardo in the sitcom Taxi during the late 1970’s and early 1980’s. In the 90’s she went on to host her own talk show and has written several books on diet and health; but it is her role on Taxi for which she is most remembered.
On April 27, 1981, John Eric Hastrick was visiting the Grand Canyon. In an effort to get the perfect picture to commemorate his time there, Hastrick climbed over the rock wall intended to keep tourists from venturing too close to the edge. He turned his back to the canyon and focused on his camera, continued backing up while trying to frame his shot. He soon lost his footing and plunged 330 feet to his death.