Everyone needs little gifts.

After the doctor's yesterday, I went into work--only for four hours--still enfeebled... I set up my annual Pride books display for June. We never have more than a couple queerish books at a time, so I arrange books not by topic but in the colors of the rainbow, ROYBGIV.
It's more about showing support than selling books per se.

I. The READING RAINBOW
(LeVar Burton comes up every so often in BOOK's.)

A middle-aged suburban white guy is volunteering at the store once a week for a few weeks, Rob. He's in the process of discerning if he wants to study for the Catholic diaconate (become a deacon--they're like civilian priests), and the seminary assigned him to an "inner-city experience" with us--just like the baby sems.

Ass't Man asked me if I wanted Rob to help me, and I said sure, even though, honestly, a temporary volunteer can be more work than help.

First I took Rob on a walk around the neighborhood--he lives in an affluent, distant suburb and hasn't been here before.
Same as I'd done with the baby sems, I showed him the greatest hits:
the bullet hole in our window; the site of George Floyd's murder being 10 blocks "that way"; the box for used needles that Harm Reduction set up; the used needles on the sidewalk a few steps away; walking along the Greenway bike/walk path; and going into La Mexicana grocery for that geode moment when the dull outside opens to reveals the sparking inside--15 different kinds of chili peppers!

He maintained a kind of banker-bland, and I don't know what he thought. He told me he'd worked as a financial adviser before moving into fundraising for nonprofits that raise money for places like Haiti. (THAT is what we should be using him for--fundraising. But we never go there.) He thanked me with some sincerity, anyway.

Then I asked him to help me find books with covers in a solid color for the Pride display. This takes some hunting--most book covers have a dominant color plus many others.

He looked a little panicked and said,
"This is out of my area--I'm a numbers guy." (I suppose it's as if I were asked to multiply fractions. I'd have to google it.)
Also, he said, "I only read in a targeted way."
He gamely scanned the shelves, though, and found a couple solid-blue covers before heading off to help in clothing.

II. Give little gifts

Unpacking books later, I came across Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living, by Pema Chodron (American Buddhist nun and abbot).

I'd read it when it came out in 2001, the year I turned forty, and it helped me a lot.
One of the precepts, for instance: “Always meditate on whatever provokes resentment”.
But the key bit in the book that became part of my Credo is:

Give people small gifts.

Yes! I loved when I read that--I actually remember standing in the bookstore and reading that--it's what decided me to buy they book, full price! because I already felt that way, intuitively, but I didn't know it counted as A Teaching.

I LOVE this story Pema Chodron tells about it:

By those standards, I did good with Rob . . . externally. I gave him the little gift of a walk, and I invited him to play a color-matching game.

Internally, though, eh... he's just the type I do judge and feel resentment toward, which is a waste of my energy.
I don't have to like him, no. Rather, I want to step away from judging him either way--neither approving, nor disapproving. Not for his sake, for mine.

Dropping expectations of other people (including of myself) is LIBERATING. It's like having clear lungs--it gives you oxygen to fuel your own work.
Rob is living his story, I'm living mine. When we intersect, I can give him little gifts, and accept what he gives me (heh, a chance to meditate on resentment 🙄😆). And let it go at that.

Life is hard, even at its easiest. Everyone needs little gifts.