A couple of days ago I saw an old friend clutching a bottle of probably decent red wine next to the banana wall in the grocery section of our big box store in Midtown KC. A proud, refined and frequent alcohol consumer and rare survivor of KCs 80s punk scene, he still projects concentrated sarcasm and sharp irony, just like punks did in the good old days. He’s more than a little inappropriate at times but that’s his brand, like it or not. He’s also one of the most generous and caring people I’ve ever met. For whatever reason, when I was coming up, he paid attention to me. He was one of the cool elders, put on shows, made zines, so I was kinda humbled he acted like he knew me when he saw me hanging out, as I was, in the late 80s, a charming fetus, but was unable to form sentences that really added up to anything when talking to people.
He let me know the national zeitgeist was knocking the wind out of him. With each new act of incivility, each aggressive tailgater, each heinous executive action, he was feeling, at best, diminished, at worst, like it was actually killing him. Also, as a person who was, at one time, more in the public eye, he was starting, in his 60s, to feel invisible.
I parked the cart blocking the middle of three palates of bananas.
“you’ve struggled, gone through some shit, right?” He asked.
“f*ck yeah,dude. some days I’m just thankful to wake up to a reasonably breathable atmosphere.”
He asked me where I get my little black beanies, then we listed the sh*t we’re afraid of, bonded over panic attacks. I suddenly found myself launching into the story how a long arc of life events led to what I now consider a major transformation, a kind of spiritual recovery. I’ve shared with some folks how powerful therapy has been for me (I can maybe be a little soapbox-y one on one [eeek!]) but this is the first time I really dug in deep with someone, with such gory and specific detail, in front of so much popular fruit being picked over.
I wrapped up and asked him if he knew where the butter is.
He pointed to the refrigerated aisle.
We said our goodbyes and split.
My point in telling this is to let you know that, in my opinion, taking time with people counts, now more than ever. I don’t know if I changed the quality of my old friend’s perspective in any measurable way, but I can say that we both made each other “feel seen”.
Moving the needle towards the goodness that is at the heart of everyone means making others know they’re loved, giving them the energy to shake some of the weight of darkness off so they can have the energy to do something that actually moves the needle, even if slightly. If I know anything at all, I know that it’s gonna take all of us. Each and every one of us seemingly invisible assh*les.
If you’ve read this far, all the best to you. You’re hearing a lot of advice on WHAT to do from every angle imaginable. Personally, I’m digging in to helping feed people, distribute our limited but real resources directly to them.
Not saying this to puff myself up, just to give you one example. Maybe you’re a builder can make a ramp or a fixer that can stop a leaky faucet.
I do know that I intend to keep this practice up, even as the national mood swings toward being humane to each other, which it inevitably will.
May seem dark for awhile, but we need each other now more than ever.
Talk later, love your face.
Bill.
Don’t ever let that big heart shrink!
You’re the best, Bill Belzer!❤️❤️