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Below I will share around two things I scribbled down while watching the video:
A first one is around the number 21 - as in 21 reasons why 'something bad' is a treasure in our lives right now.
I have always been drawn to these numbers, I've learnt the Christian interpretations and I would welcome more secular, mythical versions.
There is also the actual amount, 21, as quite a few reasons and the beautiful work that our brains need to do is a treasure in itself.
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The second thought that springs to mind is a story I am currently living. It has many similarities with Clare's example in the video, in the sense that it is also taking place in a small village in the country side, it involves the house and our perceived comfort within it, and it also involves an expansion of the community and our belonging to it, embracing challenges around language and communication.
Once upon a time, a couple on a journey arrives in a small village. They arrived here through a combination of skillful action and flow looking for peace and grounding in order to gain clarity and learn to listen for the next step to take.
They found a small house that fit perfectly their needs: view overlooking the valley, a step away from the communal fountain, small but cozy and comfortable. The village is surrounded by hikes and beautiful nature, a nature that is in deep regeneration, just like them, after having gone through a series of trials and challenges and having come out of it a bit wiser, resilient, and maybe more hopeful.
The house has a leaky roof, or so they were informed by the owner. It was supposed to be fixed but the owner does not speak the language nor does she live in the country. So the couple offered to take care of organizing the work thinking they might stay for the winter too. They felt so happy when one neighbor told them he knows how to fix it and that he would do it. And so the couple enjoyed the summer days roll by. Several times they reminded the neighbor that they are here whenever he is ready to start the work, before the rain comes. 'Next week' he kept saying.
Until three days ago, all was well, when a huge storm came brining in heavy gray clouds (a relief for the nature around) and days of rain. The couple started feeling worried about the roof and the damage this could bring. A bit angry at themselves for acting naïve and trusting in the timing of the neighbor. 'Should I have been firmer? Give him a deadline!' Wondering now if he was the right person to do it when they would have loved to give the work to another neighbor who, at the time they arrived had a hand injury and would not have been able to do the work.
Last night, dark and rainy, the wife of the second neighbor knocks on the door and asks if we are fine, if there are leaks in the house, because if there are, we can always stay at their place. She also wants to let us know that her husband and another neighbor will find a way to work on our roof next week.
I felt so held, cared for, and sure in my action to relieve the first neighbor of his responsibility to fix the roof. He somehow also looked relieved. The forecast announces sun tomorrow so the works can start with a pair of willing and engaged friends to fix our roof as if it were theirs.
'We want you to stay here, we don't want you to have to move because of a leaky roof', the wife had told me last night.
The leaky roof is a treasure that came with the house. From the very first weeks it enabled us to tell our story around the village - we are here for three months and possibly more. But if we stay more we need to take care of the roof before the rains start. The owner of the house is happy that there is someone who takes care of this to avoid work in the spring again, and we are learning to look for the signs of struggle or flow around us. It was a struggle to communicate with the first neighbor, and not the fun type of many hand gestures when you don't know the words - but rather a power play where I felt quite stuck to assert myself of the importance of the work for us in due time. A huge energy came over me (and maybe him too) when we untied the agreement we had made.
The gift of the leaky roof brought clarity to our needs and the practice to speak about them and ask for help. The almost constant rain has not done any damage yet. We feel like we belong already to a community of kind people whose lives feel enriched by our presence - that is a true gift I bow my head to everyday and learn to hold, appreciate without shame, guilt or feeling undeserving.