Sweetness & Light

In a former chapter of my life, I sold real estate for about ten years.

My first two transactions happened quite quickly, which I later learned was an atypical occurrence. Given the scarcity of funds gracing our bank account at that time, I remain grateful to this day for those strokes of luck.

While I experienced no particular affinity with my first buyers, the second sale marked the beginning of some long-lasting connections. After touring innumerable houses with other realtors, an engaging young couple fell in love, with one of the houses I showed, the first night we met. I later learned, they’d been crammed together in a one-bedroom apartment in Cambridge, with their toddling daughter, desperate to find just-the-right-place to call home. With the purchase of their coral-colored, two-family, that couple introduced me to a smart and down-to-earth real estate attorney.

In addition to staying in touch with the buyers, and growing those relationships, I began referring the attorney occasional clients. This afforded my customers great service, and allowed me opportunities to work with someone smart and reasonable. Then, about seven years into my real estate career, I received a care package from “Sweet Sue’s.”

That savvy attorney decided to close up her law practice, and follow a dream. The vision included making spectacular confections, as well as quiches, sandwiches, salads, and serving pie slices at a new cafe she’d opened. The care package enticed me to go shopping for more!

Of all of the delicious menu items, “Sweet Sue’s” Congo Bars were my absolute favorite. I’m not sure what magic she poured into that butterscotch batter, but they were melt in my mouth delicious. Sadly, as sometimes happens when trying something new, the business did not meet the imagined dream, and eventually the cafe closed. I’m not great on timing, but I believe my last “Sweet Sue” Congo Bar was about 11 years ago.

Last month, I wrote about my new baking hobby.

It provides me a strategy for navigating the chaos of the outside world, while slogging through the molasses-like energy that envelopes me. After publishing that piece, I received a most gracious and generous gift. “Sweet Sue” wrote me a kind, caring note, and with it, she included the secret recipe for those beloved Congo bars. She remembered, all these years later, how much I enjoyed them, and since I’m venturing into the world of baking, she gifted me something special to add to my experiments - complete with baking-for-dummy-type instructions, so that I didn’t accidentally scramble the raw eggs (thank goodness!). I even bought a “jelly roll” pan, exclusively for this recipe, as suggested, and man oh man, they are still seriously yummy!

At a time when it’s so very easy to be at odds with the world, Sue reached out with thoughtfulness and, well, sweetness!

I don’t think there are adequate words to describe how this unsolicited act of kindness touched me.

A few weeks prior, dear friends, with whom we have spent part of every Memorial Day weekend (except 2020, of course), invited us to lunch on their deck, overlooking the ocean during Labor Day weekend. I waffled. At that point, I had not yet been in another person’s home, for any reason, and I knew after the hour-long drive, required to get to Hull, a bathroom break would be necessary. How would this work?

Over the summer, a variety of friends and family visited with us on our patio, maintaining safe social distance, and masking appropriately. A few of those folks dashed into our home, masked, to avail themselves of our facilities. I was okay with that. But I still hadn’t been the one to go into anyone else’s home; would I be putting them at risk? Eeek!

While several friends had generously brought food to share on our patio, removing the burden of cooking, there were still certain preparations to make as hosts. To enjoy time with friends throughout the summer, we were happy to make the effort. But, that afternoon, in Hull, held a certain kind of enchantment.

Sitting on the deck, I heard the breeze whispering and felt the ocean waving behind me.

Then, I was handed a bowl of outstanding cantaloupe soup, followed by a plate of scrumptious ravioli. The beauty and normalness of the moment nearly brought me to tears.

The experience of friends feeding us - on plates other than our own - it stirred such a deep place of gratitude within me. These guys know how much we appreciate their hospitality, and with that understanding, they offered this care, even to a somewhat reluctant (scared) guest.

More recently, I received an email from a close friend. She attached a link to a video, because it made her think of me. I’ll be honest, I had a moment of, “Is this a scam? Am I going to click this link and end up with a virus?” Because, while this friend will go out of her way for me and others with abandon (she’s made over 400 free masks to keep people healthy and faces covered, beginning just days into the shut down!), music isn’t a thing we usually share or talk about.

When I listened, I was immediately transported to Symphony Hall years ago, absorbing the melodic stylings of “Sweet Honey in the Rock.” Why? Maybe because this same friend introduced me to those extraordinary women’s voices, and something about the power of this voice reminded me of those others.

In a hilarious twist of fate, I learned my friend sent a link to the wrong video! It was a song of the same title, and a completely different tune. Once I stumbled upon, and confirmed, the correct one (above), I played it again and again. Wasn't I lucky, though? I got a musical two-for-one out of that "mistake."

Again, I felt this wave of love wash over me.

To be the recipient of an act of benevolence - something as simple as a link to a video, because she thought of me - warmed my heart.

Then, a few nights ago, an old friend, who used to be a daily phone companion, and now features as an infrequent, random text or Facebook connection, sent me a query. He asked if I’d seen “The West Wing” reunion show featured on HBOmax. Since I barely ever watch television, with the exception of an occasional movie, Mark cancelled our cable subscription about a year ago. But, my friend recalled my love for the show, even though we weren’t actually friends yet, when the show aired! He even noted I could get a free HBO trial, if I wanted to watch. Again, sweet, right?

While slightly divergent, this next experience landed in the same bucket for me. After the first presidential debate, a friend of 30+ years wrote, “Assuming you didn’t watch it (the debate)...too much negativity.” He nailed it, exactly. Something so simple, and yet, he got me, without me saying a word. I noticed, with each of these exchanges, I felt that warm, fluttery sensation in my heart...to greater and lesser degrees, but there nonetheless!

I believe the common denominator is the experience of being seen; being thought of; being remembered; being known by someone who cares.

It’s funny, because I feel incredibly grateful to the people in my life. Again and again, they extend themselves to me in a variety of caring and kind ways. I don’t take a single one of these for granted (at least I hope I don’t!).

Still, perhaps because the world is just a bit more backwards than usual, these compassionate acts shine more brightly for me. I am truly grateful for the illumination in the darkness.

While I intended to close with the previous line, the day after finishing these prose, two things caught my attention. In my social media feed, I first caught sight of the video above. And later, this Rumi quote found me: “If everything around you seems dark, look again, you may be the light.” Thank you to the many forces in my world who bring the light! May you, too, both be and enjoy the light offered to you.

With love, light, and a touch of sweetness,

Joanne Lutz