365 Days Of Love. Day 119

My mom is incredible and frequently peruses the classified ads on my behalf. The other day, she pointed out an ad for "My Fishing Pond." It's an non-profit organization located about 20 minutes away from Mitchell. At the Pond, people, particularly those with special needs, are invited to fish. The Pond's mantra is "Where a small pond brings big smiles." Prior to my mom mentioning the ad, I had no idea this little Pond even existed. I asked my mom to clip the ad for me and a couple days later, I dialed the Pond...

John, the President and CEO, sustained a brain injury. As you may imagine, organization and detail-orientedness aren't his strong suites. He started to relay the story of the Pond, his need for a grant writer, and his excitement about the Neil Diamond concert him and his wife were jetsetting to. Conversational topics changed as frequently as South Dakota weather and I found myself struggling to keep everything straight. There was a brief moment where I thought, "What am I getting myself into?" His cute quirkiness and random interludes quickly assuaged any doubts, though. We agreed to meet on Friday and commence the meticulous grant writing process.

So, yesterday, we convened at a local coffee shop. As we read the grant guidelines and searched for important information, John's internet insecurities and need to wear his glasses to read the small print reminded me of my grandpa. His occasional comments in Spanish reminded me of my students. I felt as if John was this bridge between my students in Texas and my life at home, I was immediately grateful for the opportunity I had to work with him. After a few phone calls and a lot of wordsmithing, John and I finished the initial letter of inquiry for the grant in which he needed.

Per his brain injury, John is unable to drive so I offered to take him back to the Pond. For the entire 20 minute drive, he chatted about his wife and kids, his connections to the community (which he promise to enlist in my job search), and his Pond. His passion and love for what he did was inspiring, his kindness and openness reminded me of what I think it means to be human. As we took the exit for the Pond, he asked me how much my services would cost.

Nothing.

In my head, I thought, "the passion you put into the world, the joy you bring to people is a far grater payment than I could ever ask for." I promised him that I was financially stable and I enjoyed helping him. He offered me a hat (which I wore all day yesterday) and took me on a tour of the Pond. Isn't this what life is about? Figuring out what we it is we love to do and trusting that humanity and the Universe will help us do it?

Spending the day with John was a step back into reality for me. The fluidity of life isn't promoted by my stress about not having a job, the Universe doesn't need my meltdowns. Rather, life just seeks that I figure out what I love to do and

do it.

I believe the Universe begs of us to live like John, paying people in passion and kindness by figuring out what it is that we

love.