I saw this on a friend’s Facebook wall recently and it resonated with me so much that I needed to share it with those who read my blog. While I’m not a fan of the grammatical error, I like the thought.
I met a woman yesterday at the local grocery store and we struck up a conversation. It wasn’t about anything overly significant… I commented on how pretty her top looked and she told me where she got it… but then we got to talking and that little bit of “normalcy” really meant so much. I hadn’t realized just how much I missed recognizing people in my local grocery store… or seeing a familiar face at the gas station… or waving to a friend across the aisle while shopping. Being transplanted into a new world can be very exciting, but it can also be very isolating. She may not have known it, but she was the only real conversation I had that day. While I didn’t get to thank her for her kindness, I can pay it forward and take the extra effort to be kind to the next person who’s put in my path.
You see, we are in the middle of a move that has taken over our lives. While we have a million things that are falling into place for us, it’s still a challenge to be positive and stay focused on all the small tasks at hand each day. For someone who is inherently social, a move of this magnitude can be a bit traumatic. It’s so much easier to simply stick one’s head in the sand and just “soldier on”, but that’s really not the best way to handle this sort of challenge. Even if the only human interaction happens at the mailroom of the apartment building, the focus should remain… be positive… be friendly… be pleasant. You never know if the person you meet in the hallway has had a much more difficult day than you.
This journey that we are traveling at the moment is not as difficult as it might have been. We are blessed with a lovely, quiet place to live… we have our cats with us who provide us with company… and we have access to the internet, which allows us to stay in contact with friends and family throughout the move so we don’t feel so isolated. It’s difficult to push away from the computer at times… to leave the relative safety of the known friends via the internet and speak to a three-dimensional person who is standing right in front of me. That’s scary, but that’s also life.
It’s my own private battle… and I am so grateful to those who are kind enough to speak to me when I muster up the courage to say hello. Just remember that all battles aren’t bloody… all wounds aren’t visible… all injuries aren’t apparent… so to all I ask…
be kind… always.