I belong to a group that issues their invitations with the following phrase, "In the shelter of each other . . .." The events that they stage include potlucks, prayer, salsa and singing. The most recent invite was for a singalong. On my Facebook Messenger app it read, "In the shelter of each other, the people karaoke!" Quirky, funny, heartwarming.
While I hurriedly painted the bathroom this week (it was on my list of things to accomplish before summer break, which starts tomorrow), that invitation ran through my head like a meditation. Each time I picked up the brush, dampened the roller, or paper-toweled my mistakes, I heard the refrain "In the shelter of each other." It reassured me, brought a smile to my face, made me wish I had been able to go to karaoke.
The beloved community, "everyday's Most quiet need," as per Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The bonds between us grow stronger when we let ourselves be vulnerable in community. We share joys, and heartaches, we salsa and we karaoke. The common theme among these activities? We are face-to-face, we pay attention, we let go our reserve.
Upon reflection, the group's invitations do not read "in the shelter of each other, the people watch TV, see a movie, play video games, look at their phones." We can do those activities in large groups and still feel alone, but I challenge you to feel alone while attempting the salsa, or delivering "Take me home, country road" via karaoke machine. I am no expert, but I think many of the world's ills could be solved by acting "in the shelter of each other."
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