Prolifically Raw: Intention

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Intention

My neighbor is renovating.

Every day is a new adventure in hammering and sawing. Workers by the dozen pile in and pile out of his house. There�s a new crew each week and they are all very polite, nodding when I walk by to get my daily cup of coffee from a nearby coffee house. A few workers, those strays he picks up to do handy-man type jobs, have solicited me. They want to �detail my car� or �do a few odd jobs� around my house, that is, if I am looking for help.

I smile, decline the offers and continue on with my life which is a non-stop internal renovation.

It turns out Mr. Renovation is a �turner and burner� meaning he will be selling this house when he's done. He bought it cheap, will put a few bucks in and make a profit. Turn and burn. He�s already purchased another house on the street and his crews are working there too.

I think, �well, since he�s not moving in, this might be a good time to erect a fence between our houses, you know for a bit of privacy. The view out of Spencer�s window is driveway, chain link fence and house. Perhaps I could get Mr. Renovation to go in on a fence and spruce the view up a little�

This is what I would call �my intention.� Sprucing, privacy and good timing.

So I talk about this with Mr. Renovation. He is quick to get a fencing person in and we all talk. Mr. Renovation and Mrs. Fence Designer come into the house and I show them Spencer�s view. I explain I would like him to have a little privacy and if I add some vines or bamboo to the fence line, he�d have green to look at as well.

Everyone nod and agrees, my vision clear. Mrs. Fence Design will do some sketches. Mr. Renovation and I agree to split the cost and dig up some concrete for a planting area.

Again, great.

But then again�the next day, on my way for my daily cuppa, Mr. Renovation flags me down and we walk a bit.

He says, �I want to tell you that I really get your very politically correct way of showing me that I am being a slob, and that well, talk is cheap and action speaks, so I am going to get right on that big mess your son is looking out on.�

He�s talking about the old doors piled against his house, the sheetrock slabs, the bags of nails etc.

Being a habitual fixer of feelings and a corrector of misinterpreted intentions, I hear myself saying, �I wasn�t being politically correct about anything, I didn�t think you had a mess, you are renovating for heavens sake. I hardly expect it to be tidy on your side of the fence.�

Simultaneously, I breathe with that 50/50 thing that I�ve been taught. It�s a practice for every moment of being where you notice what�s happening inside yourself as you breathe and then, breathing out, notice what�s happening beyond the breath. It�s a way to give space, according to my teacher of the technique.

In the space of breath, I talk and this man talks and it�s amazing to note that while we are both human, we are drawing completely different conclusions from the same situation. We are having different realities. Neither is right or wrong, it�s just the way it is. I see this and stop trying to change his mind or fix his assumptions. He�s on his own trajectory of thought and it will determine his course of action. I am on mine and the same is true for me.

We part, I get that cup of coffee and three days later, the view out Spencer�s window is still concrete, chain link fence and the house under intense renovation AND it�s all been tidied up. No more doors, no more sheetrock, no more bags of nails and buckets of tools.

Okay. That�s fine too.