On Friday evening, after singing the praises of the
organic hot bar and deli at a food co-op that just opened in my town, I went
there for dinner. I sampled a few of the evening's dishes (the menu changes
nightly, as the Culinary Institute of America-trained chef likes to experiment)
and was ruminating about my choices when a young woman with a nose ring and toddler
approached me. I'd seen the child cavorting earlier and smiled when the woman
asked, "Are you going to buy something?" I thought perhaps she was
going to ask if I could get some cash back for her, so considering in a
fraction of a second whether I wanted to do this, I replied "Maybe."
Then, to my surprise, she added, "Well, I've just seen you sample
everything…"
I said, "Oh, do you work here?" She said
"Yes, and we've had a lot of problems with people tasting the food for
free and then leaving." Starting to get annoyed (especially as I'd just
spent weeks telling everyone in town how terrific the place was), I told her I
was a regular, and that she was welcome to ask the kitchen staff to vouch for
me. She said, "I already asked them." Incredulous, I asked, "And
they said they don't know me?" I then named a certain male cashier, who
has been my checker virtually every time I've shopped there. She said,
"He's off tonight." At that point I lost it, and went to the kitchen
staff myself, asking if one of them could go to bat for me. Rachel (names have
all been changed) said helpfully, "Well, you do look like a homeless person" — I was wearing a
flannel shirt and loose capri pants.
By this time I was livid, and Melissa (who'd
launched the inquiry) had disappeared. Rachel eventually found her in
another section of the large market and told her I bought food from the deli
"at least once or twice a week", but the damage was done. I ate my
dinner in a cortisol flood.
Fast-forward to last night, after I'd regained my
equanimity. The sweet young deli worker, who had told Melissa,
"Oh yes, she comes in here all the time!", shared an amazing story of
her own: earlier on Saturday, she (Celestia) had been "profiled" when
she went shopping at our local hardware store, which offers a 20% discount on
Saturdays. Celestia has a part-time job as a gardener, and Ace Hardware offers
an exceptional outdoor division. The store was very busy, and Celestia didn't need
any assistance, yet, she told me, an employee shadowed her
while she shopped — even following her up to the register, where she spent $125!
Oh, did I mention that Celestia is young, wears dreadlocks, and sports a nose ring and facial
tattoo?
So we both saw the humor in the entire episode: I'd
thought Melissa was panhandling me because she was young, had a nose ring and a
toddler; she'd thought I was freeloading because she saw me sample several
dishes, my clothing was loose and casual, and she heard Celestia's
"She's here all the time" as sponging! We
were all judging from misinterpretation.
How do we grow beyond assumptions based on race, age, appearance, and other external differences that make us the unique souls we are? We have white-collar crime, and blue-collar saviors who create programs that uplift and heal communities. And we're still so quick to cast the first stone.
How do we grow beyond assumptions based on race, age, appearance, and other external differences that make us the unique souls we are? We have white-collar crime, and blue-collar saviors who create programs that uplift and heal communities. And we're still so quick to cast the first stone.
How do we segue from being nuclear reactors to becoming
seedlings for a new humanity, a New Earth
Nation, learning from Gaia how to live relationally? It's a challenging time
to hold our center while
holding change; the more we can appreciate the humor of the moment and
respond not from habit but from a story re-write, the faster we evolve to a 5D,
heart-centered species.
Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go get a nose ring.
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