The Front Walkway EDITED
THE FRONT WALKWAY
“It is not what you do that’s going to bring change, but how you feel about what you are doing.”
This story comes from the teaching that all we need to do is change our mind.
It was a long time ago. I lived in a beautiful Victorian house with a grand staircase leading up to a large wrap around covered porch, with a porch swing. From the front sidewalk, there were concrete steps and a concrete walkway that led up to the front staircase. The front lawn was divided by this walkway. It was a beautiful home. I was married. But it wasn’t always a joyous place to be. I often walked on eggshells in fear of triggering an emotional reactions from my husband. It took me a while but on my spiritual journey I learned, believed and recognized that he was my reflection. And so he was also my teacher for that period in my life.
He could be explosive. Not violent. But emotionally explosive. He often walked to work so when he came home he used that walkway and staircase to enter our home through the front door.
EDIT: When I first wrote the words that he was not violent, I felt a constriction in my body. I knew that wasn't a true statement. I don't know if was trying to be mindful of his reputation or if I was feeling a little fear of angering him with making our shared stories public. But anyone who knew him during that time would know that was not a true statement. A part of him, was that of an angry man, and that was his reputation then. And I want for my words to resonate with what I've experienced, and perceived as being real. He was not physically violent. I never feared being physically harmed. But I was harmed. I witnesses others being harmed. During that time he was verbally and emotionally abusive. I walked on eggshells around his mood swings. And of course, I spent a lot of my time being physically ill. Neither of us were happy, at least parts of us weren't . But that has been his journey to have. He was simply my reflection, and I his. And I learned to really see into that mirror for my healing.
Back to the story:
One evening as he entered the house he came in yelling and screaming about what “those #%*^@! did to our front walkway!” I remember instantly feeling nauseous. I did not want to be there.
The gardeners had been there earlier caring for the lawn. It had been rainy and wet. Instead of mowing parallel with the walkway or up to the walkway, they mowed towards it and using the walkway to make their turns. This left multiple mud mixed loops of grass stains on the walkway. He was furious commanding that I call the owner and demand that he send someone there immediately to clean that mess.
I used to jump at his every command. But this time I suggested that he make that call. He did. And someone came over that evening to clean the walkway. He was pleased. I was shaken.
But over time, no one could care for the yard as well as him so he bought a new mower and he and I kept the yard after that. We worked very well together. He mowed and edged. I did the cleanup and sweeping of all the walkways and driveway of cut grass.
Then one summer, he started using the front walkway as a place to pivot the mower in the turns. And week after week I would be on my hands and knees scrubbing mud and grass stains. The whole time I would work myself into a frenzy of rage remembering his behavior with the gardeners for doing the same thing! I’d be knelt down repeating over and over to myself, “Did you see what those #%*^@! did to our front walkway!” By the time I’d finish the sweeping, he would be showered, relaxed and ready to sit back to enjoy the fruits of our labor. There were a lot of sidewalks to sweep and by the time I finished, I’d be exhausted from my rage. But I don't believe that I showed it. I recognized it as being my rage and that it had nothing to do with him.
By this time I understood our mirrors and reflections. I felt anger. I never forgave my perception of him being arrogantly rude to the gardener and now he was doing the same thing he accused the gardener of doing without even noticing the messy walkway. And I’m the one cleaning it up. Week after week that summer, I left so many curse words on that walkway.
So I finally had a conversation with the person who could do something about it. Myself. Meaning my Highest Whole Self. And what I heard was, all I need to do is change my mind. It’s not what I do, but how I feel about what I’m doing.
Exhale. Pause.
The next week I planned a different outcome. I saved cleaning the front walkway for last. I swept all the sidewalks from a mental place of peace and joy, remembering one of the Four Agreements, “Always do your best.” I then went to the front walkway. My task was simple. Clean the front walkway. I did not allow a story from the past to take over. The joy in my heart is not defined by what I am doing. Sometimes we simply have hard messy tasks to complete. Rage is not necessary! Just do your best. So I looked at the task in front of me, and I did it with joy and pride for a job well done. I felt good while I was doing it. I felt good when I completed it. I actually had to laugh at myself for putting myself through all that frustration.
And as I completed the task, I can still see this man freshly showered walking down the driveway holding a cold mug of beer from the kegerator. He recognize the tools and cleaners it took for me to clean that walkway and said, “Hmmmm…I don’t know why I’ve been doing that. I’m sorry. There is no reason to use the walkway for turning the mower.” He even looked a bit confused as to why he had done that. And that was the end of that story.
I had finally stopped carrying my anger for how he treated the gardener. I was at peace. And all I did was change my mind.
EDIT: I've been asked as to why I never simply asked that he not use the walkway to pivot the lawn mower. That could have potentially stopped my frustrations before becoming repeated events. But my asking during that time would have carried the vibration of my un-forgiveness. I had not forgiven him for his attack on me and the gardener. I was angry still. But I knew that anger did not belong to him. It was mine. I did not want to say anything that would make him guilty for my anger. Only I decide what and how I feel. He was not doing anything wrong. His actions were simply reflecting what I needed; an opportunity for me to practice patience and forgiveness. Nothing more. It is my desire to never make another guilty for my feelings.
