The sound of the blow dryers in the background soothed and calmed my frayed nerves (and ready-to-be-rid-of split ends) as I soaked up my two hours of freedom, granted to me every few months. I was sitting in the same salon chair where I’ve parked my tushy year after year after year since I was nine years old. Almost thirty years. Wowza time goes fast. Especially since having kids, I’ve come to really view my haircuts as sacred me-time, when I get to flip mindlessly through celebrity mags and also work through life troubles, celebrate successes, and gain some wisdom from my hairdresser slash life guru. It’s sort of like an old timey barbershop situation because, you see, the ladies at The Hairport know what’s up. They see my nana and mom and aunts and cousins and an uncle, along with some neighbors and family friends, and have for the last several decades. They already know all the family news, vacation highlights reel, love stories and pregnancy announcements and job changes of all of our family members. They know whose type of hair I have and, alas, which side’s genetic graying pattern I will likely follow. As I was sitting in the chair this time, my girl, Lauren, dropped a little knowledge on me, scissors snipping away. She was talking about gifts that we all, as humans, possess. Or don’t. She said it’s easy to tell if something you do is a gift because whatever that thing *is*, it’s easy for you, it comes naturally and it flows from you and through you without great effort or resistance. It’s something people recognize *in* you, unique *to* you, and you then come to appreciate its place in your own life only in the absence of it in others.
I remember even from when I was small, my mom has long reveled in the abilities of her own friends, and I recall her gushing about their many varied talents: oh she is so athletic, an incredible poet, gifted scrapbooker, thoughtful gift-giver, holiday decorator, creative craft-maker, organized neat-nick and on and on. She says that when in doubt about one of many life issues or questions, one of her friends likely had the answer given each one’s own noteworthy skill sets.
A recent conversation too with my Nana about her friends and those dear to her, girls she met 75 years ago, demonstrated that she still relishes in how “she was such a great dancer; we’d do things, Katie, crazy things, dancing all night together in Manhattan in the ’40’s” or “oh she was always so put together, dressed to the nines” or “she had eight children of her own and when each of my six was born, a gift from her would arrive on my doorstep. She was so considerate. Unbelievable person.” [Editors note: to get the full effect, I highly recommend re-reading Nana’s words in a thick New York accent with a deep voice. Best. I’ll wait.]
These seemingly insignificant-at-the-time bits of our hearts that we share with our people, that’s the stuff we hold on to and remember after decades and decades. And decades, apparently.
It just made me appreciate how each of us has our own unique-to-us set of skills and issues and shortcomings. If we’re savvy, we can utilize these gifts of our people and share our own in a beautiful barter system where we rely on each other like they used to way back when. You know, like in Ye Olde England or Small Town, USA circa the 1920s, to fill in the gaps by swapping our strengths. You cobble my shoe, I’ll build you a kitchen table. That kind of thing. Only now it’s more like you text to remind me it’s Wear Blue To Stomp Out Bullying Day at school, I’ll pick you up a coffee from the drive-through at Dunks. If we take money out of the equation and if we just rely on the talents of our friends, gifts big and small like:
what Netflix series is critical to watch next
solar panel placement
how to handle an overtired cranky toddler (hahaha jk no one can do that well)
kitchen renovation
is WebMD actually (gasp) right about my mystery condition?
soccer coaching
is this something I need to go to the ER for or not?
the most approachable and inexpensive bottle of wine for weeknight consumption (*cough* that one was me…I’ve got mad skills…you’re welcome)
which grocery store has the best deals
Amazon short cuts
how to improve your golf swing
quick and easy weeknight dinner recipes
what in the heck Bone Thugs N Harmony were *actually* saying in their ’90s jam “Tha Crossroads” (think about it for a second, try to sing it, its insane…someone out there *must* know)
how to home brew the perfect cup of coffee
who is running a sale right now where
how to crush a fundraiser
reminding you how it was Sophia from Golden Girls who said “people waste their time pondering whether a glass is half empty or half full. Me, I just drink whatever’s in the glass.” (Hashtag: slow golf clap).
and all of these sorts of things…
…we could trade the heck out of stuff we know and skills we possess and we’d live super rich lives. Money, you’re not invited. My people are wicked crafty and talented as heck.
This, then, reminded me of something I’d read years ago about a Native American gift-giving custom. Money wasn’t invited then either. It’s called a “give-away” and it’s performed at weddings and ceremonies and other big-deal meaningful events, and it runs counter to most every culture and society this day in age. Because storing items is not understood in the Native American world, the most valuable items each person possessed were saved *to give away.* This act of giving things away (not the gift) is held in high regard, and there are no strings attached to the gift, nothing is expected in return. Their belief is that what is given will return to the giver in some form of goodness at some point in the future. It matters not what someone has but what someone is able to give away. If you’re getting married, *you* give the gifts to your guests. Your birthday? *You* give the people-who-matter something to show your gratitude to them, for supporting you yet another year on your trip around the sun. It’s the giving away that’s of value, not the object, nor the giver, nor the recipient. It’s the release that’s special, and the generosity of spirit shown among people.
We laughed as I handed Lauren another foil for my highlights as we joked about our own special skill sets and setbacks. Expectations we have but could probably let go of. For me? Calendar. You’re not my jam. Schedules. Smell ya later. And Lord God Almighty don’t you dare look at my garage. Feeling all the feels? Call me. I’m here for you any doggone day. All of this is an opportunity to unload and surrender our own great energy, along with the objects and junk we hold onto and carry with us, both physical and existential, and focus on the good within us that we can then in turn share with others. Know to your toes that you’ve got gifts too. If you subscribe to the Native American way, then give your gifts away (both physical objects or bits of ethereal kindness) and goodness will circle back and find you again. Barter it up. Know your talents and share them. Lean on friends whose talents you do not possess and don’t fret that you don’t have them too. You’ve got other treasures to share with them that they do not. If you keep putting your good juju out there into the universe, it will surely find its way back to you via a one way ticket aboard the love train that you kicked into gear with your give-away. Your hair color may change from time to time, but the goodness you’ve been born with that you forever hold inside of you will not. Save the most beautiful, most delicious, most glorious for your people and let the extra stuff go. It will all return to you one day again. Have a great day, friends. 
You know I just said “Alexa, play The Crossroads by Bone, Thugs and Harmony at volume level ten please”
Hahahaha!!!!!! Just tryyyyy to wager a guess as to what they’re saying!! It’s impossible!! ?❤️?❤️?
Love NanaGalvin’s stories of “The Way We Were”…..imagine those city girls dancing the night away……? …..
Can you believe how our lives have become intertwined…..you are my gift.
Aww it’s all a beautiful puzzle and I’m grateful for all of it!