Community and Kigatsuku

Our project today took us to a local community center. It began as a food bank; and still functions primarily as such. But it has since expanded to include other essential services to families in need specific to its community....ESL classes, parenting classes, help navigating the paperwork of emergency benefits, etc.

We were there to help a group from Intel do Easter egg dying with children who were waiting for their parents to pick up their food. I was excited about this opportunity because it was one where I could include our six year old.

What I loved about this project was watching my children. Right from the start they dove right in and went to work. They saw what they could do to help, and they did it. No hanging around the corners, no waiting for someone to tell them where to go. Even my six year old saw what to do and did it.

There is a word I learned from a Japanese author: kigatsuku. It means, "an inner spirit to act without being told what to do, a willingness to serve, a self-motivated impulse toward goodness" (Chieko Okazaki, Cat's Cradle, Bookcraft, 1993, pg. 36). It is a rhythm of life: see a need, meet that need. It is a simple, everyday way of lifting where we stand. We don't need to go out of our way to do it; we don't need to sign up for projects or travel to third world countries, we only need to look around us and see how we can help the person right in front of us. It applies everywhere we go: our jobs, our homes, the grocery store, and yes, even on the roads!

There is something so deeply rewarding about watching your children fall into that rhythm, and doing it so well. They are kigatsuku.

Now imagine an entire community of kigatsuku. Imagine the power when an entire community of people work toward something better than just themselves. Imagine doing it even in small ways, imagine doing it without reward or compensation. It doesn't take any great organization or any program or leader or anything remotely complicated. It only requires each individual to see a need, and meet that need.

"The five third-graders from Wasatch Elementary who are having trouble learning the times tables don't need a legslative subcommitttee called to study educational outputs of seven hundred representative third graders in Arizona, New Jersey, and Nebraska. They need someone to sit down with them, just the five of them, and sing 'four times one is four, four times two is eight....' " (Chieko Okazaki, Cat's Cradle, Bookcraft, 1993, pg 37)

In the words of Leonardo Da Vinci, "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication."

Imagine what we could accomplish if we did the simplest thing: kigatsuku. See a need, meet a need.

Friends

Lizzy and I had so much fun playing kickball at Civitan House that when I found an opening, I jumped on the chance to do it again. Kickball? Awesome folks? Rice Krispie treats covered in chocolate? What more do you need in life?

There's something about going back a second time. We all know that feeling. Its like a home feeling; like you know what to expect and all the energy you expended last time worrying about what to do next flows naturally now to enjoying the circumstances around you. We got to make some new friends, but some old friends were there to. And that is what I call them all. My friends. It only takes coming back again. The first time, you are just acquaintences. The next time, you are friends.

We laughed about getting out, about running over each other at the bases, about tricks and antics we used to get each other out. We are friends. I realized this isn't service.

No, this is just plain good people having fun. And some darn good Rice Krispie treats.

Can We Talk?

Ohhhh....how life happens. Precisely 3 days after posting the previous entry, I was talking with a friend at the park. I told her about this ambitious project I had come up with to involve our family in weekly service projects for the whole year. She told me I was being overly ambitious. My innocent reply: Really? Okay, it wouldn't be the first time I had been naive. Or bit off more than I could chew. In fact, I think I am kind of an expert on that...but that's beside the point. I thought if it were something REALLY worthwhile and something I was REALLY passionate about I could commit... Well, the truth is reality doesn't work that way. Life happens. Babies get sick. A teenager needs more love and teaching. A daughter is ready to learn about some of the harder facts of life. A six year old needs help with Girl Scout cookie sales. In a family, I realized, service is actually the order of the day. Not a day goes by without it. It is the steel girder that holds up the framework of a family. So for all the missed opportunities to serve in our wider community, for all the posts I missed on our blog (holy cow! was it really two months?), I really can't admit to a lot guilt or frustration over missing a goal. Because in actuality, we were still serving. Everyday there were boo-boos to kiss, a baby brother who wanted a trip to the park, a little sister who needs help with homework, a son who needs to talk until late at night. This is service. This is family. All the same, maybe I will change my goal to two big projects a month. Overly ambitious? Really?

Bumper Crop

I have no great love for the desert, but one good thing I have to say about our great home state is that you can grow REALLY good citrus here. And really good gardens. At least, I hear you can...I wouldn't know. I can't seem to keep my garden alive. Citrus trees, however, are relatively easy to keep alive where I live. All they need is water, a few years to recover from transplant shock, and they thrive. Even with me around! This year, like previous years, we had a bumper crop of citrus. My kitchen was exploding with grapefruit, lemon, valencia oranges and tangerines. I had boxes of it. Now what to do with it all? Along comes this week's project: Scouting for Food. This is an annual food drive the boy scouts participate in. All food they collect is donated to the major food bank in the area that often distributes to other, smaller food banks. My son, our resident Boy Scout extraordinaire, handed out the flyers to our neighbors while my girls rode bikes and roller-bladed. That Saturday, he quickly ran the streets and collected all of the food people had left out for him. However, he wasn't informed correctly about when and where to turn in the food, and by the time we got a hold of the person who would know, he had already deposited the food at the food bank. Oops. So here we are with bags of food. And a kitchen full of citrus. And a really crazy two weeks ahead of us that didn't allow for any time to make the hour round-trip drive to the food bank or to do all the juicing and preserving that needed to be done. Hmmm.... I did some research and found a closer, smaller food bank. I called to set up a time to drop off our food. Before I got off the phone I looked at my boxes of citrus strewn everywhere. I ask: Do you by chance accept donations of perishable items too? Yes! They do! The point to this ridiculously circuitous post: I read an article one time about a lady in Washington State who planted her first ever garden one year and didn't realize exactly how much her garden was going to produce when she planted it. She ended up with a bumper crop and no way to possibly use it all. She called her local food bank and found that they actually look forward to donations of fresh items and can quickly find a home for them. Voila! Problem solved! She started a group that goes around to collect people's excess produce from their gardens and they regularly supply the food bank. How neat is that? It doesn't take a lot to help someone else. If we look hard, there are things we have in excess. There are places in our life where our cup is literally running over. It might not be your garden (definitely not mine), but it could be something else: your talents, your time, or even the trees in your backyard. Take a look around. Where do you have a bumper crop?

What's Your Sign?

Because of a great link a friend posted earlier this week (see end of this post), I have been thinking a lot about signs.

This link wasn't the first time, or the last I'm sure, that I have seen someone express how nice it would be if we could all just wear a sign that says what we're going through at that time:

"Please excuse any rudeness on my part, I have a 6 week old colicky baby that doesn't sleep at night and I am nearly insane with sleep-deprivation"

"Forgive me if I don't smile, I have social anxiety"

And so on.

My daughter and I talked about all of the wonderful people we met at the home for disabled adults (see Maybe the Best Kickball Game Ever). We talked about a few of the kids we know who have disabilities of their own: downs syndrome, autism, fetal alcohol syndrome...just to name a few. In each of these cases it is fairly apparent after a brief meeting that there is something, even if you don't know what, that this individual is dealing with that allows us to alter our expectations. We cut some slack, because we know that's what we'd want someone to do for us if the tables were turned.

But what about those of us who have something going on in life that you can't see in our face? What allowances do we make for each other when it seems to the naked eye that everything is square and hunky dory? One of my favorite songs says, "in the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see." I love this link below, because it expresses perfectly what can be hidden in a heart when it looks, to the outside world, like everything should be okay. We all need a little slack. We all need a little more patience and forbearance....because you never know what sorrow is hiding where.

http://bravegirlsclub.com/archives/2151

Dave, the Anchor

I mentioned in our previous post that since the kickball event didn't allow little ones, we decided to divide and conquer for this particular service Saturday. I had hurriedly run out the door that morning, calling back to my husband who was staying home with the little ones, "Why don't you guys make some muffins and visit the elderly couple around the corner?" Smile. Door Slam. Car Starts.

Of course. I should know better. Dave is many things, and he is not many others. But one thing he most DEFINITELY is, its selfless. And service-minded. And handsome. :) He needed absolutely no suggestions or guidance from me.

After an eventful and humbling morning playing kickball, my daughter and I came home to a nearly spotless house. Dave had enlisted the tiniest minions in our household in full scale, hands-on service: do the jobs that Mom and Sister would be doing if they were home. That way, when they got home, they're jobs would be mostly done.

Two things:

First, Dave is the genius here. While I think of teaching my children to reach outside themselves to forgotten corners of our city and world to help others, he remembers to teach them to look at who is standing next to them. He teaches them that it doesn't matter one lick how nice you are to a stranger if you are not nice to the person who lives in the bedroom down the hall. He teaches them that "no success can compensate for failure in the home." Who we are as individuals, as humans, has its roots in how we relate to those who know us best: our family. He remembers this, and teaches them that serving each other, in a family, is one of the noblest acts on earth.

Second, maybe you have to be a full- time stay-at-home-mom to appreciate this, but coming home to find your to-do list mostly done, is like Christmas morning all over again. Its BETTER than Christmas.

I love that man.

Maybe the Best Kickball Game Ever

Because we wanted to have a variety of experiences this year, we realized it would be necessary to bend the rules a little here and there.The opportunity I found for this Saturday was perfect....except that the minimum age for participants was 8 years old. Since we have two children under that age, we decided that some projects are going to be just for one or more of the bigger kids, while the littler ones stay home and do something more their speed. Since my oldest son was busy with a campout this weekend, that left me and my oldest daughter paired up for what I think has been the best adventure yet: KICKBALL!

Okay, who DOESN'T like kickball? Even with all those bad memories of being the last one chosen for a team, or of the outfielders moving in calling "EASY OUT!" when you came to the plate, you have to admit that once you're playing the game, its just downright fun. Our assignment: play kickball with the most excellent residents of a local home for adults with disabilities. Honestly, I don't think I've met a more extraordinary set of folks in my lifetime.

Ray is deaf, and doesn't speak, but makes up for it in what he expresses in his peaceful demeanor and infectious grin. Ernie just got a job, and is so excited about it he loves to tell everyone. And then give them a pencil. I got a yellow number 2 with a purple eraser on top. My daughter got one with bunnies. I carefully zipped them into my coat pocket so I wouldn't lose them while we played. Sue has not only kindness but fairness and wisdom; I listened to her counsel one of her friends about some problems her friend was having with another resident. Autumn loves sports and was excited to be the team captain. She instantly took to my daughter and chose her first for her team. She went out of her way to make my daughter feel welcome and a part of the game. And then there is Ned. He did a happy dance every time he got up to kick. He got me out at second base and teased me for it the whole time.

We had a blast, and two hours went by too fast. I found myself realizing that I wasn't really helping them at all, but they were helping me. They laughed with me when I ran for the wrong base. They showed me how to be competitive and kind. They taught me about including everyone. They gave to me. I came away with my arms full of gifts, and I didn't bring a thing.

Is this what volunteering really is? Is it realizing that in the end, you don't have anything much to give, but end up receiving what you never realized you lacked in the first place? It sounds so selfish, because I know its not about me. But really, I had nothing to give they didn't already have, and I had everything to receive from them. Is this what is meant by when you try to lose your life, you actually find it? Sometimes I don't understand this backward universe.

Or kickball.

One time I got up to kick, the infield moved in, calling out "EASY OUT!". I guess some things still make sense.