Another adventure in forging relationships: the pallet delivery man

This morning I enjoyed another adventure similar to yesterday’s, at the post office with the mysterious box. Again, another “stranger” and I forged an authentic human relationship inside the money matrix where both these men act inside roles defined only by their functions.

How often do we even notice, much less enjoy an exchange with, a person whose “job” is to “serve” us in one capacity or another?

My focus on forging real “relationships” — of all kinds, with all species, all dimensions — is both intentional and deepening. THIS is permaculture. Permanent culture. Let us endeavor to consciously counteract the creeping anonymity and isolation that our reality-simulating “devices” have so insidiously managed to further separate us, from our own bodies and hearts and souls, from each other, from this beautiful earth, and from the cosmos! Let us remember to stay right here, right now, both within ourselves and with others, centering ourselves in fully embodied physical/emotional/mental/spiritual aliveness!

Today’s adventure began with a phone call, early this morning. From a big box store, I hear the polite voice of the delivery driver with the pallet of wood chips for the Overhill wood stove. The call came as scheduled. I was glad he called before I took puppy Shadow on his morning walk, because I wanted to talk with him first.

“Hey,” I said, “would there be any way I could persuade you to actually back up my driveway to deposit the pallet, rather than putting it on the edge of the property? Could I give you five bucks for the extra trouble?” Well, he said, he could do it if he could get traction all the way. Oh no problem, I told him. I asked him if he knew where Overhill was. I have the address, he said. “Well,” I responded, “it’s the one just past the garden at the corner of DeKist. It’s not like the other houses in the neighborhood, you’ll like it!”

(Now what impelled me to say that? Not sure. But it did feel like we were really communicating, and I have learned, over these 73 years, to trust my intuition.)

He laughed.

So, by the time I heard the deep rumbling roar of a gigantic engine, we were already primed for connection. He came in a HUGE conveyance, way bigger than needed to haul one little pallet. There was nothing else on the trailer. But the trailer itself was so damn huge, I couldn’t believe he could turn to back up into the driveway.

I walked out to greet him. Said, doubtfully, “It’s not possible, eh?” And he said, “Oh yes, I can do it.” We stood in the driveway while I told him where I wanted the pallet to land, ending with “We live in a third world country, where we bribe each other for favors!” — and handed him the $5 bill. He touched my arm, laughed again, pocketed the money, and said, “Well I’d certainly agree with the first part!”

He then proceeded to disconnect the engine of the truck from the gigantic trailer, drive to a nearby driveway, turn around, drive past the trailer, then reverse gear, edge up to the back of the trailer where the pallet sat, push the forklift out, pick up the pallet and back up into the driveway with the pallet, on now a much shortened truck. Bingo. Mission accomplished.

Though it did take about 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes more than it would have taken had he just unloaded the pallet at the edge of the front yard. Fifteen minutes “on company time,” during which we made a short, but intensely real and fun connection, created an exchange within the underground economy inside the matrix that defines his job description, got creative with how to get those pellets closer to their eventual destination (the basement), and made us both feel good, empowered, and ready to start the day. Hallelujah!

Here are two photos. By this time he had already disconnected the engine from the humungous trailer, turned the engine around, and edged up to the back of the trailer.



Both Brie and Dan have already volunteered to start carrying bags. I told them to wait until tomorrow evening, at our weekly community dinner, for which I am the lead and will roast a big chicken, when will ask all those present to please pick up two or more bags of pellets and taken them into the basement. That should do it!

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