My Fighting Neighbors...

September Writing Challenge - Day 8

It’s Monday, week two of this monthlong writing challenge. I sat down this morning with my notebook, pen, and a cup of coffee, ready to tap out something about the week ahead.

But as I let myself sink into meditation about what might be worth sharing, the grown-ass men who are my neighbors decided to kick off again in the driveway right outside my window. This nonsense has been going on for weeks now: someone got tased, the cops banged on my door in the middle of the night, and at one point there were twenty-two police officers wandering around the drive.

All of this…over parking.

When the shouting stopped and the third set of police in two weeks finally pulled away, I tried to meditate, tap, even do a bit of reiki to get my brain back on track. Instead all I could think was: Is this really who we are? People who scream at the humans we share walls with over a foot of space? Who square up when everyone just needs to get to work—or to bed—depending on the hour?

The truth is…yes. It is who we are.

But we are also the sweet new neighbor who greeted me with a cheerful “Good morning, Leah” as I headed out today. We are the man next door who picked up the book I dropped before I could even bend down. We are the kid from down the street who cleared cobwebs from the walkway before I walked blindly into them.

We are all of this and more.

So when I want to scream at the childishness of grown men filming one another over a single foot of space in a giant (by London standards) circular driveway, I remind myself of the neighbor who brought me wine as thanks for helping them while they moved in.

All of this and more.