Monthly Archives: October 2016

Volunteering to Listen

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Hey guys! This is my second and last post as a guest blogger for Sycamore House. Enjoy!

And please check out my housemates’ posts in the upcoming months at https://sycamorehousehbg.wordpress.com/

CONTACT Helpline is primarily run by volunteers. In the last two months at my job, I have met a few of them, and they are amazing.

When volunteering comes up in conversations, usually the word brings up the image of soup kitchens, setting up for events, or maybe sweating while building shelves.

The volunteers at CONTACT are unique because they commit to a few hours per month to talk to people who are either in need of a specific resource or a listening ear. It is not easy to hear about difficult situations without knowing if you actually helped that person, which is part of why recruiting new volunteers is difficult.

It’s also difficult because we seldom truly listen (this is not a new or millennial thing, solely brought on by technology). We do hear (for the most part), but we do not always put our full concentration on listening. It is a challenge to listen as we may space out or get excited and/or nervous about how we should respond.

In a way, answering the phones for CONTACT is easier than everyday conversations because we have restrictions on what we can say. In a “normal” conversation, we can technically say anything that comes to mind. Volunteering has taught me to hold back interruptions and resist the temptation to relate a story that may not help at all.

So, my challenge to you (whether or not you actually volunteer on a helpline) is to volunteer to listen.

Into the Wilderness

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This month, I’ve been taking over the Sycamore House blog. This is one of my posts.

“You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition.”

–       unknown

Comfort, until about two months ago, was the dry Colorado air. Comfort was knowing that the mountains are to the west. Comfort was school, papers, and my college campus.

The wilderness, in contrast, is strange and unfamiliar. I’ve found myself using my GPS more times than I’d like to admit and missing people even more than I thought I would.

When I think of a wilderness, I think first of an overgrown jungle and then the desert with nothing except for sand and possibly cacti. Quite the opposite images, right? Or not… A wilderness, really, is simply a place where your compass doesn’t always point north or rather, not the north you expected. It’s a place where there aren’t road signs detailing where and how you should go.

Harrisburg is a wilderness at times. It certainly felt so during my first week or two. But I’ve driven to work on auto pilot a few times already. I know where to get groceries and, more importantly, I know where the bookstores are and where the Chipotle is. I have not completely navigated through all that I’m doing at work, but I am slowly getting trained on using active listening and helping with the helpline and creating a volunteer recruitment plan.

My wilderness is becoming tamer. I do know where physical north is now (and I can use the river as a reference!) and I am working on clarifying my spiritual north. Will my wilderness ever become completely tame? I don’t know. After all, life is a wilderness of sorts and it changes constantly. But this year has already proved that I am not traveling alone. I have: Myself, my housemates, the wonderful people of St Stephen’s Cathedral, my family, and my friends back home.

Check out https://sycamorehousehbg.wordpress.com/to read about the program. I have one more entry to go for October and then my amazing housemates will be taking a turn.

Sycamore Thoughts

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Throughout the last month, I’ve been taking some time  (usually during lunch)to write down a sentence or two in a small journal I got from the Colorado Renaissance Festival. These ruminations may be revealing and some may be funny, but mostly they’re just… thoughts, bringing my inside to the outside.

1. Emmaeus

Seven pairs of feet –

Shoes, socks, bare –

On our walk to Emmaeus

 

Tears glittering on eyelashes –

Lowered in solidarity and prayer –

On our walk to Emmaeus

 

Dividing –

And coming together in aid and love –

On our walk to Emmaeus

 

And the Sycamore tree.

 

  1. A squirrel stares at me while I eat my lunch. I am not about to give it my nuts.

 

  1. “You should be careful who you give your money to. You never know what they’re going to use it for.”

But her story of abuse, eviction seems true. Her desperation I see in her panicking, but somehow dull eyes. I hear it in her quivering voice.

Before, she took off her hard hat and smiled – she looked young and pretty. After, I watch her fold her arms and direct traffic. Her life has made her age.

 

4. It’s difficult to see how we are perceived because we can only view ourselves from the inside. But, every once in awhile, we catch our reflections in other people.

 

7. It’s easy to get lost in my own troubles and thoughts. But spewing them onto paper, even with a broken pen, fixes me. And then continuing on, I focus on what is placed before me: others.

 

  1. The church on the corner plays hymns while my housemate lifts up his water bottle and says “I have a giant capri-sun; worship me!”

 

  1. It’s a beautiful day even when the sun’s not shining and when my spirit is in the ashtray. When people are having trouble, they see nothing good. Should we remind them that it’s a beautiful day?

 

  1. The trash truck slowly lowers its arms and receives its partner, the dumpster, which emits a surprised squeal at being so rudely seized and raised into the air. It reluctantly obliges the truck, opens its lid and is shaken. It tolerates its lid painfully slapping close, if only because it knows its ordeal is almost over. It is set down with careful swiftness and the truck drives away without a glance or word. The dumpster feels empty.

 

  1. Something to ponder: if there were less, but more efficient spiders, would humans be as inclined to squash them?

15.I fixed a technological problem at work without seeking my dad’s expertise. I feel proud of myself. At the same time, I miss riding on his shoulders and standing on the tops of his shoes.

16. What I have for breakfast: corn flakes, hot tea, and time spent with myself. What I fix for lunch: a bagel with crunchy peanut butter, an apple, a banana, and a book I need to finish by tonight.