I maintain that, if given the option, we, as a species, try to act in a decent and thoughtful way both toward one another and toward ourselves.
Now I know there are exceptions to that. There are a lot of people all over the world who don’t have choice, don’t have a voice, don’t have outlooks that include hope. Those people desperately need their voices heard, and that’s an entry for another time. For now, I’d like to focus on those of us who can think for ourselves, and make differences in our daily lives.
Given that most of us have this ability of seeing our circumstances and reacting accordingly by, hopefully, making choices that will benefit others as well as ourselves. But in order to do so, we kinda have to pay attention, don’t we? Don’t we owe it to ourselves and others around us to be present – cognizant of our circumstances and surroundings? Wouldn’t our best selves be something less than oblivious to happenings around us?
How many times have you, for example, had to stop in the middle of your own path because someone walked in front of you and paused, or did something that made it so that you had to wait for them to go on their way so that you could continue with your path or work? I know I’ve waited for someone who walked right in front of me, stopped and gawked around while I waited for them to clear out of the way.
But in that moment, I become indignant that someone could be so self absorbed that they don’t realize that I, or I and my friends, are waiting for them to figure out what their doing next and get the hell out of the way…. you know what I mean. It mystifies me.
Now that’s not to say that I’m without sin. Ask myriad bicyclists in Stockholm, Copenhagen and Amsterdam about how I have the innate timing of stepping off a tour bus directly into the path of oncoming and heavy bicycle traffic. I come out of it quickly, but that doesn’t seem to stop the poor cyclists from having to slam on their brakes, or to try to ring their bicycle bell in an angry way. And honestly, experiencing someone trying to ring a tinkly little bicycle bell to show anger or frustration is very funny at the time, even when you’re trying to be a good pedestrian and scramble out of the way of the oncoming bikers.
I tell you that to tell you this. It seems it’s not going to get better as we get older. And we seem to be more guilty of it when we’re on holiday or not in our own private surroundings.
A friend of mine told me a story the other day that involved both him and me. He’s a delightfully doughy sort with an ample personality and humor to match his jolly girth. He’s balding more than me – significantly, I feel – and he’s just more patronly in his countenance and demeanor. He’s Scottish, so his thick brogue has me forever asking him to repeat what it is he’s saying to me, but he never seems exasperated or irritated at my inability to understand his dialect. I’m very fond of him, and he’s a great guy.
So my mood shifted to that of support in the course of one sentence when he started his story to me…
“I’ve got a funny story.” (me, happy with anticipation) ”You’re not gonna like it.” (shift to dread)
He tells me how he’s spent the morning at the guest exit and lost count of the people that told him that he had a great voice and how talented he was. Though I’m sure he’s both of those things, his talents have not been highlighted on board the vessel, and he came to the realization that they were mistaking him for me. After correcting them for some time, he finally gave up and accepted the compliments with all the aplomb of a seasoned and benevolent star. I taught him well.
So what do you say to a friend who tells you this story?!?!? Am I a tad disappointed in my dietary regimen that my 36 inch waist is walking a precarious edge to be mistaken for someone who’s probably into a 46 inch measurement? Perhaps. Am I now acutely aware of how very few hairs he has on the top of his head, and how that can be perceived to be the whole number of my own? Is my own reality so skewed as to how I’m perceived that I am clueless to the reality that should lay plainly before my eyes?
A world in which I look to others for my idea of myself, is a world in which I choose not to live. Things in my world are shiny and happy, never outside of my comfort zone or belief system. What the world perceives of us can be heartening or disheartening, and that’s the cruel truth.
When others give us praise, we readily and hungrily accept it. When we receive criticism or have our flaws illuminated, we often dismiss it as opinion from the uneducated or vilify it as the rantings of idiots.
But the most insidious and dangerous response is to let the things we hear “run us.” To believe what someone else says or observes about us without self examination often proves detrimental. For example, what happens in an emotionally abusive relationship when one person is continually criticized and knocked down? What happens to kids who hear how stupid they are from their parents or teachers or mentors?
What’s true is a dual edged sword. We can believe what we want, and we can discard what we want. And we often embrace the opinion of others when it serves us, and we banish thoughts that are not in our understanding or ideas of ourselves.
My response to my friend was to say how complimented I was by my being confused with him. At the time, it was a survival mechanism to not hurt his feelings by saying that, he was right, I don’t like this story. I was stunned at how these people perceived me.
But I can choose how this news affects me. I can step back and see my faults, or I can see my friend’s attributes, which, at the time of the initial story, I did not honor, and am ashamed at my not giving him credit for what is true.
I’ve already told you the best and most noble part. My friend is nice, friendly, jolly, approachable and caring. To be mistaken with a character such as this is not the rantings of unknowing and oblivious masses. Could it be that I’m the one who’s oblivious to the bigger lesson here?
This is a wake up call for me to remember what is important in this life.
What is important is strength of character and a willingness to share your weakest attributes, thereby showing, indeed, your greatest strengths. just like my friend did.
