My mission was simply to pick up the key to my new apartment from Ed, my soon-to-be neighbor and onsite building super.
“Oh, you're colored?” Ed said when I introduced myself.
“Does Mr. Barnstein (the building owner) know you're colored?"
I wasn't sure and Ed thought it best to check before doing anything wrong.
I left key-less that day, feeling many feelings and fully aware that the law was on my side should I wish to make a housing discrimination complaint.
But Mr. Barnstein called me that evening mortified and super apologetic, and in the final analysis I got the feeling that Ed was confused, not hostile.
(Let's ignore why it should be confusing for a “colored” woman to rent in Baltimore.)
“They” say that when emotions are high, intelligence is low.
We live in a world that links intelligence to the head. But our souls—the wisest and infinite part of ourselves—speak to us through our bodies, not intellect. If my mind says one thing but my heart or gut says another, I trust my body wisdom.
Now, I don't heed my body wisdom all the time, but I did with Ed—rather than try to make trouble for him, I shook off our first encounter and settled into my new place.
Soon afterwards, I visited Scotland where a strange thing happened: I got the impulse to buy Ed some shortbread cookies. And I did, without thinking too much about what I was doing and stopping myself.
And when Ed locked himself out of his apartment (kinda funny given his job) and couldn't pay for a locksmith, I did saying that he could pay me back later.
When intelligence is high, animosity is low.
Ed's “colored” comment wasn't the only unfortunate thing to exit his mouth. But by feeling what he was saying rather than thinking about it—or by tapping into my heart's higher intelligence—I knew that he was simply trying to learn something about me.
And it wasn't long before I started to find his lack of filter to be refreshing.
Contrast that with "Jane." Jane was a neighbor who I visited frequently and never said anything questionable to me. But she had a habit that I couldn't swallow:
Jane shared mean-spirited emails that made me sad for America.
I told her as much, and eventually put my care and attention elsewhere. But I bear her no ill will and would never say never to making friends with her again.
The paradox is that focusing on ourselves leads to kindliness and unity.
By ourselves, I mean our true selves. Our soul selves. Our inner selves who communicate through feelings, impressions, urges, hunches and odd impulses, like feeling kindly toward people who your mind would normally reject.
That said, unlike Daryl—the black man I mentioned last time who befriends members of the KKK—my soul is sooo not about buddying up to people who promote racism or hate. At least that's true with my current level of understanding.
Or feeling, I could say.
And that's where I'll end:
To create a caring & lively world, our task is to feel forward. To get more in touch with our hearts and guts, as in gut instincts as well as courage to behave in ways that break from the norm and could perhaps call us into question with loved ones.
But we can take baby steps getting there, even if it means in our next lifetimes!
P.S. When my niece moved into a building under Ed's care, he would stop by on occasion to offer her furniture and things that folks had left after moving. I chuckled at the thought that he could be thinking, “Wow, these colored chicks aren't half bad!”
