We experienced a touch of spring last week. The glorious sunshine softened the chilly morning temperatures, and by midday we could stop and talk with each other comfortably. Suddenly we were not bundled up in clothes, fighting the cold and wet air. We wanted to pause and bask in the ambient temperatures. And we could be found busy with the raking and sweeping away of the cold, mushy winter detritus from the sidewalks and front gardens throughout our landscapes. The warmth brought outside the many people who inhabit our large work-at-home population.
The restaurants were full to overflowing on Valentine's Day eve-ning. People out and mostly away from the cell phone, earnestly conversing, laughing and looking beautiful. Lots of talking by the young ones about whether they would have a date, lots of even younger ones preparing their cards for school friends, lots of special baking of heart-shaped anything. Again, just as the warmth of the first sunny days brought people together, the 14th brought a special focus to the daily-ness of our lives. "Poppycock," say a lot of people - it's just a Hallmark Card invention used by merchandisers to sell more stuff. However, I think secretly we all like to draw hearts and hope for more love, not less.
Yvonne Sanchez, director of Seattle's Department of Neighborhoods, wrote in her guest column in this newspaper last week that "caring neighbors build strong communities." She wrote about all the small gestures that enrich our daily lives: "the bus driver who waits for you to trot up the block, even though she has the green light; ...the supermarket checker who puts the box of treats in your 3-year-old's hand instead of the bottom of the grocery sack...; or maybe the neighbor you see picking up trash while walking in her neighborhood." It is hard to see these details when one is alone in a car or glued to the cell phone while transacting daily chores.
And then we have the fast-becoming-distant memories of the jostling and electrically charged participation in the recent caucuses. How do we keep the sense of urgency and community participation alive and viable? Can we afford to slip back into being isolated again? Should we make it a point to celebrate the small interactions, count them, and make sure we have more rather than less of them? As you know if you have ever studied music or played sports, it takes a lot of practice to master the art.
We obviously all want a strong and viable sense of community, so we better keep practicing.
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