What Friends Are For

I have said it before and I will say it again: I am astounded by the kindness of my friends.   I have basically been moving for three weeks straight.  Granted, those three weeks were disturbed by a week and a half in the wilderness.  And in all, the amount of time that has consisted of my moving or packing or cleaning has equivocated to about three weeks total.  So, I packed some things and then had a yard sale to relieve myself of some of the physical burden of "things."  Several friends attended my yard sale and purchased things which provided money with which to fund my forthcoming travels, while simultaneously relieving me of unnecessary boxing.

Next, I coordinated a fundraiser for one of my best friends in the world who is leaving to volunteer at an orphanage in Kenya for 9 months.  This woman, Claire Triplett is leaving on an equually selfless as selfish trip to explore a third-world country and provide love to children who would otherwise be forgotten.  We raised $300 for Claire after planning the extravaganza over a three-day period.  She was taken completely off-guard and I think is still trying to figure out why so many friends and strangers decided to congregate on her behalf.

The week of my final exit arrived and I found myself cleaning the house, where I had lived for six months, of the debris, unwanted furniture, memories and junk of six humans.  I was overwhelmed with the responsibility of clearing the "things" in the distance between walls. "Things" to which I felt no attachment.  "Things" that I simply wished would disappear.  "Things" that I had a hard time discrediting to our landfill to  spend hundreds of thousands of years decomposing.  "Things" that I thought were not worthy of donating to Goodwill. Who would spend good, hard-earned money for these worthless keepsakes?  Not to mention the six months of dust, dirt and dog hair that cluttered the corners, cobwebs and crevices that defined our existence for the previous six months.

Alas, my friends came to the rescue.  I'm not sure what happened within my development that dictated my lack of acceptance of assistance.  I have learned in my work that I am seemingly incapable of  asking for "help."  So, there I was feeling completely overwhelmed and completely alone.  I had been packing my belongings into boxes; trying to figure a way that they would all fit into the smallest boxes possible,  and in a way that all things necessary would be accessible at the drop of a hat, no matter how much time I had to retrieve them from a storage unit.  I had organized my things.  I had condensed 9 large boxes into 3 small ones and earned $300 in the mean time.

Three of my six roommates had moved on.  One had moved to New Orleans and two had returned to the wilderness for two weeks of work (they work for a different wilderness program than I).  In the free time that they had accessible to them, they had both done the best they could to relieve the structure from their burden of "things."  Unfortunately for me, their limited amount of time meant lots and lots of  unwanted items of which for me to dispose. So, I spent the past week making trips to Goodwill and the landfill under the assumption that they obviously no longer found these items useful.  It was a complete pain in my ass packing these items up and disposing of them in the most environmentally friendly means possible.

And back to my saviours, my friends who gave of themselves for me.  Matty arrived at my house when I was at my wit's end.  I had been vacuuming my room and cleaning my bedroom when he arrived out of nowhere and demanded we walk down the road to get coffee from one of the drive-thru coffee shops.  We walked down the road while I bitched and moaned about feeling responsible for so many others' unnecessary belongings.  He assured me that he would help and that the burden was not all upon my back.  When we returned to my house, he immediately began cleansing the kitchen cabinets of recyclable glass and useless, topless tupperware.  My roommate Erin arrived and began removing the refrigerator of half empty salad dressing bottles, yogurt containers, OJ containers, rotten vegetable bags,  and juice bottles.  My friend Laura showed up out of nowhere and vacuumed the den; moving the couches to reach every nook and cranny.  Finally, I had assistance and camaraderie; as together we rid ourselves of the trash and stagnancy that had suffocated me for so long.  

I moved all of my belongings into storage.  I no longer had a room or bed or bathroom within which to take care of "me."  My friend Amy, from Atlanta, offered to let me sleep at her house.  I was overwhelmed then, with gratitude for her opening up her house to my homeless body.  She cooked dinner for me, breakfast for me and even helped sew curtains for my car so I could have privacy living in the wild.  My friend, Craig, agreed to build a platform to fit in the back of my wagon to act as a bed during my travels.  He has been working for three days to create a bed from scratch that will fit in the back of my wagon while allowing space to store my food, cooking gear and clothing.  He is creating his masterpiece for the price of a saw.

As I find myself on the receiving end of the kindness from Matty, who without reward cleaned my kitchen; and from Amy who opened her home and provided nourishment without reward; and from Craig who took three days time to create a bed, a safe-haven for me; I find myself in awe of the kindness that ordinary people can exhibit.  I find myself wondering at my awe and wondering if I would do the same for a friend.  I can think of no comparable way to repay my friends for what they have done for me.  I find myself feeling extremely selfish that I could have dominated so much of their time.

As I reflect, I realize that without hesitation I would do the same for a friend.  This makes me wonder why their doing this could leave me feeling so selfish.  Why do I feel such responsibility for taking away from their freedom?  From their lazy, sun-filled days?  Why do I feel that I don't deserve their kindness?  Why does kindness make me cry?  I am utterly, eternally grateful for the love and compassion and empathy that my friends demonstrated during this past week.  I could have, by no means, completed all that was before me without them.  I can only hope that one day I can repay the favor.