A Taste of What Could Be...

We are not alone…However, I felt quite alone, as I was standing at the top of a ladder scraping lead based paint from the side of a house. My shoulders were getting tired. My feet were sore from standing on the ladder so long, and the rays of the sun were baking me in the biohazard suit I was wearing.

I needed a rest, and as I shifted on the ladder preparing to descend, the sights and sounds of my surroundings caused me to pause. Looking down to the ground, it is as if I noticed for the first time how many people there were working around me, not just on the house I was working on, but all up and down the street. Everyone was working so hard, sweaty and dirty. But I was surprised by the number of smiles I saw on peoples' faces and the sheer volume of laughter in the air.

The environment held a sense of familiarity, and as I reflected on it, I realized that what I was sensing was a carnival like atmosphere. What a contrast to the normal turn of events…hard work usually precipitating groans and complaints, yet what I was observing was the very opposite…hard work—service—bringing about joy. Why couldn’t this be the norm? Or could it?

Was this a taste of what could be?

How often are we told to dream big, only to be scorned for being unrealistic when we have dreamt? Similarly, how often are we told to be realistic, again, only to be scolded by others for not thinking big enough?

The question is, “Really, what is possible?” Is it possible to end homelessness and poverty? Is it possible to make the world a better place? Is it possible to truly make a difference?

When the beach is covered with starfish withering in the sun, do we return them to the ocean taking hope that we make a difference by even saving one, or do we throw our arms up in despair at the mountain of need and suffering before us?

Simply, is the glass half-full or half-empty? Should we be hopeful, or should we be despairing? Why? What reasons/rational are there for being one or the other?

In this year’s Russ Mawby Signature Service project, held in Grand Rapids, MI, I had a taste of what could be. So often we share our utopian ideas, only to have them scoffed at as quixotic; however in working alongside other AmeriCorps, Habitat for Humanity, and community volunteers for a day and a half, I have seen a glimmer hope that perhaps our utopian impulses may not be totally unrealistic. I have been caused to imagine the possibilities of what could be.

Imagine…

Imagine a community, a culture, a nation, a world, where the majority of people cared about and for their neighbor. Imagine such a world where people and groups gave generously with their time and resources, not under compulsion, but because of a free spirit of giving and a deep desire to make a difference. Imagine a world where the desire was not to amass material goods and wealth for one’s self and one’s own, but where there was a desire to improve the lives and station of all. Imagine such a world were people took responsibility, rather than only taking advantage of freedoms. While such a world would not be free from disaster, disease, or death, wouldn't such a world be much more imbued with peace, hope, joy, and laughter?

Might there be a way to attain a mixture, amalgamation, synthesis of what is and what could be, of the real and the ideal. Real people with real lives and problems of their own, taking time to help pursue the ideal in their neighborhoods, community, and ultimately in the world?

What would it take to catalyze such a shift in a culture that places so much importance on materialism and personal gain?

How can the glimmer of hope that we each see and experience in service be shared with and inspire others?

In the recent Signature Service Project, and throughout my AmeriCorps’ service, I have seen glimmers of hope. Sometimes I have had to look for these glimmers, sometimes I have been struck by them, but they have been there. And while I have often been tempted to throw my arms up in despair at the number of homeless in my community, and the number of problems facing the world, it has been these glimmers of hope that have not only brought me back to reality, but have helped me to see reality anew.

So, how do we live in light of the possible? What are we willing to do, think, consider, and perhaps sacrifice in order to see and realize what is truly possible? What would happen if we acted on our glimmers of hope?