Dear Friend,
For two summers on break from University, I worked as a gardener.
One year I worked for the corporation of London, looking after the historical gardens in the City. One of my gardens was St Botolph’s on Bishopsgate near to Liverpool Street Station. I was surprised by the number of glass shards we’d come across when weeding the flowerbeds. Another one of the gardeners explained that they were left over from the Bishopsgate bombing of 1993.
I liked that job.
Walking through the rush of city workers with my wheelbarrow and water key. The first summer was really hot and the planters and raised beds needed regular watering. I had a huge yellow watering pipe that weighed a ton to push around. You’d find the water hydrant and use the iron key to open the water supply.
How many rats live in London I wouldn’t want to know, safe to say there are a lot of them. Sleek black bodies scarpering in all directions when you pull back the hydrant cover was not my favourite thing. The first time it happened I screamed and jumped up on some nearby railings. No-one took any notice.
You can become invisible in the city. I kind of liked that.
Another year I was stationed in Brixton. A team of four of us worked our way around the council estates in Lambeth, clearing the detritus from the flower beds and cutting back the hedges. You had to wear double thick leather gloves to protect against the discarded hypodermic syringes you’d find mixed in with bedraggled barbie dolls, plastic toys and burst footballs.
We made a collection of the toys. Decorated our battered bright yellow van with them.
I wanted us to drive that van into the main hall of the Tate Modern and leave it as an exhibit. A shamanic totem for the unsung lives of the people of the city.
Every now and then you’d be asked by local residents to do a quick job for them. We weren’t supposed to, but the little bits of extra cash came in useful. This one guy asked us to clear some debris from his garden. There was a lot more than he made out. Four of us worked at it for about fifteen minutes, so an hour if you add it up, for which he gave Tony the driver £5.
I couldn’t believe it. I lost the plot and started kicking off in the van.
I’ll always remember the grin on Tony’s face as he turned to me and said,
“You don’t handle uncool people so well do ya Mick!”
Stopped me in my tracks. It had never occurred to me that the issue may not be with the way others are conducting themselves, but rather my response to them.
Tony was completely unfazed.
“There’s arse holes everywhere mate! Don’t let them get to ya.”
Fast forward twenty years and I’m having a conversation with a male friend. We’re discussing domestic life. He’s sharing a story about his wife’s anxiety.
“That’s her stuff you know, not mine.”
I ask him to explain. It’s such an obvious thing, but I’m thinking doesn’t it affect you, how can you be at peace of your loved one is unhappy?
“Of course I love her, but those are her worries. I know it will work out so why take on her stuff? It’s hers not mine.”
Memory works by association.
Tony’s comment from the days of the yellow van and my friend’s philosophy find each other. Like roots entwining, new space, new possibilities open.
People will do what they do. It’s their stuff. Their dance with the false self. Accepting that people will do and say foolish or harmful things, doesn’t mean to condone such behaviour. Neither does it mean we should stand back and fail to intervene.
The idea that people should or shouldn’t think and feel and act as they do - you can drive yourself crazy with that.
If you grow up being the peace maker in your family, you become super sensitive to other people’s needs. The coping strategy that develops is to try to preempt every one else’s need so as to avoid confrontation. The hope is when the others are placated or satisfied then you’ll be noticed and you’ll get your needs met. Generally it doesn’t work out that way. The other’s, so embroiled in their own inner world, don’t notice you. Resentment builds. Eventually you’re in the back of a yellow council van flipping your lid.
The world has us on a string when we need it to be as we would have it.
Let it be what it is.
People will behave as they do for the foreseeable future.
Sometimes people will amaze you and move you to tears with their loving generosity. Other times they’ll let you down. Don’t attach to it.
We don’t need everyone to think like we do.
Let the world be. Give more attention to the changes we want to make within ourselves. It’s a generous act to allow others the space to work out their own evolution in their own time.
A time will come when each individual develops an intuitive awareness of the interconnected nature of existence.
Until that time you’ll come across ignorant behaviour.
Don’t let it knock you off your perch.
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey