If you know me, you know that chicks have been at the center of the center of my existence lately. I decided to have chickens because I love to study animal behavior, I love the idea of eating eggs from the back yard, I hate weeds and heard chicken love eating weeds, and I want to reap the rewards of their rich poop in my compost and garden. You see, I’m what you might call an urban homesteader here at what we can Funkly Manor (That’s the name of our house. I decided to name all the aspects of the house to make it more publicly accessible: Shoozane Movement Studio, the Living Laundry home office, and Hothouse Gardens all provide awareness to this homestead’s elements and characteristics.) But now, Funkly Manor needs a chicken coop.
I’m not sure what they put in the feed, but these chicken lightweights have outgrown their little chick shelter faster than the Hulk can pop his shirt buttons! Delphine (named for her Dolphinesque chirping sounds), Icara (named after this chick’s mythological attempt to fly directly into the heat lamp), Lucy, and name-yet-unknown (Icara’s tinier sister) are so ready to move, to fly, to eat up all the weeds in the yard. But here I was, a woman with a plan but with no confidence or juice to implement it alone.
In walks Drake–a handsome elder, a black man with a pencil thin mustache and a sweet grin. I met him on the wood aisle at Home Depot while collecting two-by-fours and plywood for the chicken coop. He walked right up to me and exclaimed with a slight Southern drawl, “Excuse me, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman like you on this aisle before!” As it turned out, Drake was also looking for lumber for his porch project, but managed to walk with me and carry my load all the way to the truck I’d borrowed from a dear friend. We chatted awhile about his career with the Air Force and his days growing up in Kansas. Then he confided, “You know, I’m old, and I don’t have much going on, and I would love to build your chicken coop.”
And here he is, this man who knows nothing about me, but who offered to embark on this project with me. When asked if he wanted anything in exchange he simply replied, “Just stay here and talk with me.” All I can say is, I love conversation! What an amazingly symbiotic connection. So Drake spends a few days a week at my house working on the coop, and we chat while working and hug hello and goodbye.
Meanwhile, I have bored friends who are now biking over to dig over iced espresso, friends who want to have coops of their own offering their tools in exchange to learn alongside, and friends who have big trucks to offer for hauling lumber. And in the process of these needs being met, we’re finding this to be a most joyous occasion for connection! Can you imagine what this would be like if I’d done all these things alone? Truck rentals, sore muscles, self pity, isolation, and no one around for the celebration and the eggs!
Think of a project area in which you don’t feel skilled or fully resourced. Now, look around you at who could be involved, open your heart to the possibility of this connection, and share your story and your needs with them. People love to help, especially if they get to use a skill they’re good at. Let them bring you their gifts!
In support and gratitude,
Susan
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Such a fantastic story, Shooz! I’m such a deep believer in the power and joy of sharing work. Where I grew up, sharing labor was one of the basics of everyday life and community–it meant not just getting together, but creating something that benefited someone and paved the way for everyone who contributed to receive in return, guilt-free. It wasn’t always fun in a purely hedonistic sense, but fun and laughter were available, and it gave a kind of wordless cameraderie and respect that seems unique to me. I’d love to meet Drake–what a supercool man.
Beautiful Susan. Couldn’t get in here yesterday but this morning it gave zest to my coffee. Using your whole life for a forum works. Thanks for this contribution.
Awesome! Since building this coop, the three chickies are now grown and about to lay eggs, and I’ve introduced Drake to one of my elder dance mentors–a statuesque Italian gardener with a fiery spirit–and they have their first date tomorrow night!