When the World is too BIG

“Nobody ever asks anything about me.” – Olivia Stratford

When the World is too BIG

The phone ringing sound didn’t last very long.  It was replaced by a woman’s voice.  She announced the name of the business, for which she works, when she answered the call.  It’s a company I call with regularity.

“Hello Olivia.  How are you today?”  I queried immediately, after recognizing her voice.

“Oh.  I’m O.K.”  She replied with a palpable apprehension.

“That’s not much of an endorsement of your wellbeing!  What’s going on?”  I asked with a hope of drawing her out.  After all, I’m pretty sure I’ve spoken with Olivia on this same number for more than fifteen years.  She answers her company’s incoming calls, most of the time.  And, I’ve even met her face-to-face an almost innumerable number of times.  But that’s pretty much the depth of our relationship.

Even though our relationship is merely on the surface, this seemed to be the perfect opportunity to get to know more about her.  Perhaps I thought it an opportunity because I’d been spending a whole lot of time recently with Dilan Bashara.

Dilan is the definition of global goodness.  He’s a U.S. Citizen, but he grew up in the Middle East.  I think that’s one reason we’re drawn together.  Talking with him gives me warm memories of one of my other, long ago, dusty lives, working on the Arabian Peninsula.  That commonality has given us another, important thing in common.  A glimpse into what it feels like to live, and struggle, with a recurring feeling that the world’s problems are just too big for anyone to cope with.  That feeling is exactly what I felt in Olivia’s voice, over the telephone.  So, I asked her again.

“What’s going on?”

“Nobody ever asks anything about me!”  Olivia responded with surprise shedding from her words.

“That’s not true!  I’m asking you.”

“Well, there’s a lot!  I can tell you one thing.”  She said.  Then she continued on, releasing her burden.  She told me that one of her daughters, with six children, had just moved into her basement.  The father was an alcoholic and had become abusive to his wife and children.  Olivia had just finished working with her daughter to get a restraining order for their protection.  

I could feel her emotions spilling over, through our telephone connection.  I mostly listened and made sure she knew that I had heard her.  Yet, the whole time I was listening to Olivia I heard Dilan’s words in the back reaches of my heart, over and over again, like a continual ringing in my ears.

“Always remember, when you get overwhelmed by problems that seem too big, beyond your ability, you can always do small things.  You can always offer kindness on a personal basis.”

I know Dilan believes his own words because he lives by that creed.  He regularly gives assistance to those he knows and to those he doesn’t.  He does it because he desires to pass goodness directly to another, right from his heart.  Heart to heart.  He does it without any expectation of return.

I returned my full attention to Olivia, as soon as my remembrance of Dilan subsided slightly.

“Do me a favor?”  I asked.  “When you look in the mirror will you look at yourself right in the eye and say, ‘I’m not alone!”

Silence followed this very personal question. But, Olivia’s quiet apprehension didn’t last very long.  It was replaced by her softened voice.  She announced, with wonder, that she’d accept this heartfelt invitation.  And, since she works for a company I call with regularity I’m going to ask her that “how are you” question again, the next time I call.

“Hello Olivia.  How are you today?”  I’ll query immediately after she answers my call.  And, I’m hoping that she’ll feel what I learned from Dilan when she hears my voice.

“Always remember, when you get overwhelmed by problems that seem too big, beyond your ability, you can always do small things.  You can always offer kindness on a personal basis.”