I’m not sure I have anything of value to say anymore. Hasn’t it all been said? Over and over again? Last night I went to listen to a free concert offered by James Taylor in support of Barack Obama becoming president. Though I was quite happy to be listening to this man who was an icon of my younger days, I found myself more inspired by the man who gave the invocation speech. Howard Hangar is the minister of a church I attended for several years here in Asheville. It is difficult to call Jubilee! a church as it is a far cry from the Catholic churches I knew so well from my childhood.

Jubilee! is (and the exclamation mark is a definitive part of the name) a place where misfits gather to find themselves again. In fact, Asheville is a place where misfits gather to find themselves again. Asheville draws people here who have made a decision to change up their lives because their old lives just weren’t working anymore. We arrive here for various reasons and begin to “heal”. It’s easy to do that here. There are probably more massage therapists and yoga teachers per capita than any other place in the world. I make that claim with absolutely no numbers to back it up.

There is so much healing going on here that when I swipe my debit card for a purchase at Earth Fare, I turn my head so I don’t see the word “processing”. Not that I don’t have more places to grow. I imagine and hope that is a life long game. I’m just more than a little over the “me, me, me, me me” focus.

I say that with a tiny bit of irritation with myself for having been at it so long. Enough is enough. There is a whole world out there in need of cleaning up from environmental issues to plain old caring about your neighbor issues. Do you know your neighbors? I remember when I knew just about every family on my street. At least I knew their names and if they had kids and how many. For the last 10 years, during the healing phase, I have lived in rented…temporary…homes. This home I am writing from is no exception, though I have claimed it as my own. It is my hope that I will follow through with an intention to know more than the few neighbors I do know.

After 9/11, I went to New York for a peace march. I’d visited the city a whole bunch of times, for business and just because I love it. The city was very different that October of 2001. People looked at each other, acknowledged each other. It felt like a great big Asheville. That’s what we do here. We see each other. It is part of the draw to visit this lovely mountain town.

A few years ago, when the real estate market was booming and a growing up of the town was taking place, I moved away from Asheville to Phoenix though my move had nothing to do with what was taking place. It was a decision to be with my youngest daughter as she prepared to give birth to her son and my first grandchild. When I returned a couple years later in 2006, I was stunned. People were not saying hello and acknowledging each other as they had when I left. I was at the car wash one morning cleaning out my “drive across the country grit”. Standing in the waiting area with 3 other women, I realized we weren’t even seeing each other in the small room. And so I spoke up. I told them I had just returned to Asheville and found it less friendly than when I left 2 years before. They agreed that we had become cautious as more and more people came in, expensive condos replacing tired, unused space. We’d become a “hip” town rather than a “hippie” town. I suggested that we each experiment that day, saying hello to strangers and see what occurs.

I don’t know what the other women found but I realized a change quickly. Later that day as I walked through town, I heard a group of people remarking how friendly everyone is here. Coincidence maybe. Maybe not. Maybe our little carwash talk had an impact, enough to shift us back into trusting each other again. Trusting each other enough to see each other for a brief breath or a conversation. It feels a bit arrogant to think that I had anything to do with making such a change. And maybe there wasn’t so much a change in everyone else as there was in me.

So back to Howard last night. He led us in proclaiming our responsibility to our own lives and that of the lives around us. It was done with a light heart and a strong heart. My yoga teacher talks about holding onto a kitty that doesn’t want to be held. A careful strength, a loving intention. With such an attitude, we invoke and allow trust. My picture is that the kitty understands it is safe to be held and relaxes.

When we trust, we can see that we are not so different. We are each coming from the same place, no matter what our views are, no matter who we are voting for. We each are seeking a safe place to be. Lookin for love.

Breah