a better way…

Recently, I was standing in the middle of the farmers market pondering what the differences were really between the six types of cucumbers splayed out in front of me when a woman all of a sudden appeared right in front of my face and asked: 

“Where’s the fruit?”

I must have looked confused or stunned because she quickly followed with, “This is my first time.”

We were standing in the middle of the Dekalb Farmers Market (trying not to shiver out of our coats), with carts and people about to mull us over at any minute. I quickly answered her question, large hand gestures for extra help included, and we were on our way. Thirty minutes later when we were both paying, she was walking out and gave me the biggest smile and yelled, 

“Thank you so much!”

It was happy.

Moments before, I had overheard the woman next to me talking about needing just one cent more. I had just {begrudgingly} received change back and offered her a penny. 

Much happy.

The next day I was in line at the post office–a place I have been spending copious amounts of time at relative to my previous zero hours put in there–and I had no idea what box, etc. I needed to send off my multiple packages. The lines were growing, people were grumbling, and you know there is always that one person who voices their {disgruntled} opinion to the innocent bystander in line loud enough so that everyone can hear. Just in case you were all wondering about how they were feeling, they’re frustrated! That poor bystander. You feel like you were in on the rudeness but you were just a victim. We see you innocent one. We know.

 I was just planning on asking my questions when I stepped to the counter, I clearly couldn’t go interrupt a transaction–people were already frazzled. But then a woman came out from behind the counter and was trying to help move people to different lines. She looked at me, “hun, do you need some help?”

“Why, yes! Actually, I need lots of help. Which should I use here?”

And she proceeded to kindly help me sort out all of my shipping woes. 

It was happy.

Is there a point to all of this incessant rambling besides that Emily has personal encounters with impersonal people?

Yes.

Here it is: 

Put down your phone. Look up. Smile more.

We are all victims of the bump and grind of life that doesn’t often look so pretty or feel so fun. We all need food to eat, we all have dry cleaning to pick up, or floors to vacuum, laundry to put away, plates to clean–and God bless us if those aren’t some of the greatest blessings we will never fully appreciate!

Human connection is food for the soul. 

Set yourself up to receive some.

I pondered putting earbuds in and listening to the most recent message from my pastor whilst grocery shopping (a completely respectable use of my ear time), but I would have missed the opportunity to help that lost girl in the market.

I {too} often am on my phone, using it as a literal shield to the world around me, wrapping myself in a bubble of “safe” isolation. But I would have missed the smile the gentleman who needed help reaching something next to me at the post office gave me when I was able to help. 

And let me just say–lest you venture to make excuses for yourself–these interactions had nothing (ok, probably just minimal instead of nothing because I have heard from you men before about it being “different” and I have studied gender stereotypes…but minimally nothing) to do with who I am and what I look like. 

I am not having small, kind, compassionate, and personal interactions with the world around me because I am a “young, hot, chick.” {ps…watch your mouth. We are ladies and women around these parts, not chicks. I digress.}

Your smile, your open heart, your attentive spirit…that is what creates the space and invites in moments of happy. 

A couple of days ago I tweeted,

“we do not love because we are perfect lovers. we love because we know the incredible depth of our need to be loved.”

In response, someone asked if it could then be argued that love is inherently selfish.

My answer to him was this:

“Aren’t all of our actions, in some form or fashion, at their irreducible minimum, selfish and/or for our own survival?”

We can’t really escape that. But what we can do is acknowledge that our own selfishness, our own desire to be loved, to be noticed, and to be worthy of loving–is the same desire each and every person you come into contact with has as well. Even the incompetent server, even the cold bank teller, even the distracted doctor, even the person who bumps into you in passing (without even noticing)…and every single other person you come eyeball-to-eyeball with every single day. 

Let’s create more opportunities for connection. Let’s allow more space for compassion. Let’s leave a little space in our over-stimulated minds for unexpected moments of happy and kindness.

It begins with your approach to the world. Consider venturing out into the world without plugging up all of your senses. 

[You know what I mean, right? Hands: phone. Ears: music or conversation. Mouth: talking. Eyes: on the prize (whatever it may be. phone or otherwise) And your poor nose who is generally free to take on any new accosting from the free world.]

Look up. Smile!

Who will you bless? Who can you smile at? Who can you grab the door for? Who can you help?

Today is the day for a better way.

“The best antidote I know for worry is work. The best cure for weariness is the challenge of helping someone who is even more tired. One of the great ironies of life is this: He or she who serves almost always benefits more than he or she who is served.” 

{Gordon B. Hinckley}