My friends Sharon and Chuck tell me that they will be house-sitting / dog-sitting for the next few days.
Considering that they are here on vacation, and had no such plan just last week, I am curious. Whose dog? Where? They explain to me that the people across from them, up in the hilly part of the small Mexican village where we just had our Retreat, asked them to take care of their pup while they are going out of town for a bit. And handed them the keys to their super nice villa - with a pool. Just. Like. That. How long have you known these people, I ask? Oh, a few days. We just said hi a few times, in passing. So, they moved into these folks’ home, and took excellent care of Koala. A few days later, the people came home, found their place just as they had left it, with a very happy labradoodle who had had lots of beach walks. Did either of them do due diligence? Did they ask for references? Sign anything? Nope. Just a gut feeling that said: “Yep. These guys will take great care of our favorite furry friend. No worries.” And “Sure, we can move into their home and help them out. Easy.” I LOVE LIVING THIS WAY. I love living in this smooth, gut-following, easy, Yes Way. A way where giving and receiving ebb and flow, where we can enhance each other’s lives easily, and where complications and fear are kept at bay. A few months ago, one of my Airbnb guest was waiting for me on my couch, feet propped up, when I got home. I had left my front door unlocked for her, and told her to make herself at home and enjoy the house. That I would be home eventually. We talked for a bit, shared a meal, and then she asked me a question that had been on her mind since she had walked in. She asked: How do you do this? How do you let strangers into your home and trust that all will be okay? I shared with her my “Yes Way.” She asked questions. Questions of “what if” and “has anything bad ever happened?” She seemed fascinated, as though she was diving deeply into the customs of an exotic culture. I could tell this was as strange to her as it was important. At some point, I told her that I would rather live this way and be occasionally proven wrong, than live the other way - constricted, fearful. For some reason, this part brought tears to her eyes, and when she went to bed, she hugged me and thanked me. I have a feeling she was thanking me for something else than my comfy couch. Back to Mexico. I am talking about this very topic with my dog-sitting buddies at sunset, and Chuck is telling me about his day in a neighboring town. There is no ATM in our small village, so gringos will often take the bus over there, and line up at the bank under the hot sun, waiting their turn to get some pesos. Strategically, this is where a few people in need will usually set themselves to ask for money (kind of tough to say you don’t have any, when you just left the ATM. Brilliant, really.) Chuck tells me about how, in order to lighten his load for a few minutes while he went inside, he had promised a few pesos to one on these money-asking guys - in exchange for watching his bag. From what he said, there were many pairs of eyes on him, possibly questioning his sanity. When he came back, his bag was right where he had left it. No problema. So yeah, Living the Yes Way. The way where we agree to dwell in a Friendly Universe, and when proven wrong, are okay with the occasional (rare, in my experience) surprise. Because it feels soooooo much better than the other way. Today, I invite you to look at the places where you may be able to play with the Yes Way. Small places at first, maybe. Just enough to start strengthening that Yes muscle. I think your heart will thank you.
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