The Parable Of My Manly Neighbour

With a timely text from a friend...

I stepped outside this morning and my neighbour had mowed our front lawn without being asked.

It’s exactly what he told me would happen, but still…such a delightful surprise.

The back story is that a couple of weeks ago I introduced myself to the woman who has moved in next door with her husband and son. She was sitting in their front yard enjoying the sunshine. She told me that her husband had wanted to mow our lawn but didn’t want to assume I needed any help.

I burst out laughing. Because at that point my lawn was very “jungle vibes”.

I explained that her husband was very very very welcome to mow our lawn whenever he wanted and to assume away. In fact, any “manly” jobs would be greatly appreciated.

Sure enough, a couple of days later, true to his word, there he was…mowing our lawn when I got back from a big day.

I thanked him profusely and attempted to explain how wonderful it is to get such practical help without even asking.

“Oh, it’s NO TROUBLE at all! I’m already mowing my own…it’s effortless. Happy to do it.”

And now again today, he has mowed our lawn.

It’s just such a lovely feeling.

And it has made me think.

Because I believe him. Mowing our lawn is effortless for him.

While for me it’s a complex chore that requires many planets to align and falls to the wayside with too many other more important tasks.

In the same way that giving meals to a neighbour that has a disability and is coeliac is effortless for me.

I’m already cooking dinner. And it’s coeliac safe because of my daughter. It’s literally no trouble at all to pop some into a container and give it to someone who needs it.

Yet for them, it’s incredible to be on the receiving end to be gifted something that feels too complicated.

I can give endless examples like this.

The tech thing that would take me hours, if not days and definitely tears.

My friend moves his hands like magic with the mouse and keyboard and somehow gets the solutions within seconds. Often solutions I didn’t even know existed!

Or the woman down the road that goes for a walk every day so she offers to take the toddler next door for a ride in the stroller while the mum gets a few moments to herself.

Or the young person seeing a homeless guy at the petrol station, and instead of ignoring him, offering to buy him food.

These micro exchanges is what makes us feel connected. And give us a burst of much needed dopamine in a heavy world.

I don’t know if there is anyone or anything in particular to blame for the voice in our head that so quickly will say:

“I don’t want to assume.”

And not offer our help.

But it’s such a thing.

And we would be transformed as individuals, as a community, as a society…and yes, even globally…if we taught ourselves to listen out for that “I don’t want to assume” voice…and then go ahead and do it anyways.

To not let the “I don’t want to assume” voice have the final say.

Because EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US has a “lawn next door to mow”.

What feels like such a small thing for us…can be life changing for someone else.

(This is so funny…JUST NOW my friend sent me a text that I decided to look at because she’s in hospital and I’m not wanting to miss any updates. It’s a photo of two small tubes of fancy looking shampoo & conditioner. With this message: The friendliest day nurse just says to me - I asked my mum for any shampoo or conditioner samples I could collect for the ward for the women - and just brought me fresh towels and some shampoo and conditioner like the greatest little love in action moment.

There it is! A perfect example of what I’m trying to express.

The nurse could have so easily chosen to dismiss her urge to do something kind, in case it made my friend feel uncomfortable. Instead she went ahead with something small (and effortless) and in turn has brought such a deep sense of care and nurture to someone stuck in a hospital bed.)

Even writing this piece felt clumsy. The same voice that says “I don’t want to assume” also says things like “that’s really awkward”. And of course, the temptation is to opt out.

But I’m trying to trust these moments of vulnerability because I’m often thanked more for these “cringey” pieces that I write…than the ones that I feel are more substantial and worthwhile.

So yeah, here’s to the micro moments of kindness that can so easily slip by and becoming better and not just spotting them…but taking a risk and making an offer.