Perhaps because I'm constantly in search of meaning, I'd like to think there's a reason for everything that happens in my life -- whether bad or good, happy or sad. Which annoys my good friend R to no end, because he believes that things happen just because they do, and that they can often be pretty random, without rhyme or reason or as a matter of consequence.
I know where he's coming from, of course. How do you begin to make sense of life when, say, someone close to you perishes in a horrific accident or dies unexpectedly, for instance? If one were religious then one would immediately find comfort in faith and believe it was all part of God's plan, one which may not yet be apparent -- but will be in His time.
But neither my friend nor I am religious, and so our search for meaning resides outside of the divine realm. He bristles every time I insist on a reason for everything because he probably thinks I sound fatalistic or superstitious. I'm neither, actually: when I insist on the existence of reason I'm not seeking cause or justification but rather for meaning. I look for the lessons, the teaching moment if you will.
Sometimes, however, I struggle to find even that. Earlier this year, one of my dearest friends died, and my world suddenly made no sense. He was my hero, someone I looked up to and leaned on; his very existence in this world gave me comfort, whether I saw him or not. For a while I retreated into a very dark place I didn't want to emerge from; to this day it hurts knowing I'll never see him again. And while I can't say I've found meaning in this tragedy, I know that losing him meant finding something within me. I'm no longer content with merely going with the flow and seeing where my life goes. Now I've taken up the paddles and am choosing my path, with the understanding that my time on earth is limited but that what's important isn't how long I get to live but how I live.
I believe that my attitude during adversity has somehow turned me into an optimist. When I screw up, I try not to dwell on my stupidity (even if it's hard not to); instead, I try to understand how I could have committed such a lapse in judgment and, more importantly, how not to let it happen again. Finding something good within so much bad makes it easier to stay positive, I find. And better yet, it keeps me from nursing regret. After all, how can you wholly regret something that has taught you something valuable, or has given you meaning in the midst of confusion?
Yes, things happen just because they do. Natural disasters hurt or kill people, destroy their lives and livelihood. Accidents happen when we least expect them. We get sick and perhaps die. People break other people's hearts, and often not because they want to. We can lose everything we have or love because of a simple error or a stroke of bad luck. But then again, good things happen, too.
We can try to control things we can't possibly control or tread through life with as much caution as we're capable of. Or we can just try to make the most of what we have and find as much love, kindness, joy, and laughter that we possibly can, which then makes our time here worthwhile. What I'm trying to say is in the middle of all this unpredictability lies opportunity for discovery. I'll continue to find my reasons, even when I can't make understand why anything happens at all, except that they do.
THANK YOU
If you're looking to deliver maximum value for the least effort and time possible, I have an idea for you. Just say "Thank You."
Granted, I'm pretty compulsive about thanking everyone who has anything to do with my peace of mind, convenience, comfort, security, enjoyment, happiness...you get the idea. For instance, if I take a trip to the mall, I'll thank the salesperson who helps me, the cashier ringing up my purchase, the greeter who said hello to me when I entered the store, the maintenance people who mop the floors and clean the bathroom, the parking lot attendant, and anyone else who did something kind or considerate for me while I was meandering through.
I don't care if it's their job to do what they do for me, or if they do it for everyone else anyway. I mean, all you need to do is think of a time when you had a job that involved any kind of customer service and how it felt when someone showed a bit of appreciation for your effort. Or imagine how it feels when your boss thanks you for the work you do (and how much it sucks when he or she never does). All I'm saying is that a bit of kindness goes a long way: that person you just thanked might have been feeling down or anxious, and those two words might have made a difference in his day. Which isn't a bad thing at all, if you think about it.
We probably all know about the Jet Blue flight attendant who had enough of his job and exited the plane via the emergency slide to the tarmac -- but not before saying a few choice words publicly to a passenger he'd just had an altercation with. In light of this story, I've been seeing several pieces about how many Americans hate their jobs these days. One may think this is surprising, given that almost ten percent are unemployed and about double that number are underemployed. In other words, shouldn't we all just be grateful to have a job?
But that's not my point here. Just because someone is being paid to be nice to you doesn't mean you can't be nice back because you're not being similarly compensated. What kind of world would this be if we didn't do anything for others if we couldn't expect a reward in return?
The thing is, what goes around really does come around. If we adopt a mindset of gratitude, we become happier people and are more inclined to express our thanks to those around us. That's infectious, really. Besides, how much time and effort does it really take for us to thank someone else? (Less time than it took for you to read this sentence, that's what.) And if someone is too miserable to acknowledge your simple act of kindness, it wouldn't be your problem. You'd have the satisfaction of having done something nice for someone (and it wouldn't hurt your karma, too).
Many years ago, my father told me a story about how the first guy who gave him a job asked for his salary expectations. After my dad replied, the man said, "Oh I think we could do better than that!" Now remember, this was during a time when my dad couldn't get anyone to help him when his car broke down in the middle of the street because he was "colored." So my father worked at the architectural firm for a few years and learned so much on the job, returned to the Philippines to set up his own firm, and went on to have a successful career. He was able to send all four of his children to excellent schools and give us a good life.
So I thought about that man, I thought about how his decision to hire my father and teach him well made such a difference in our lives. I then sat down and wrote him a letter, and thanked him. He replied back not long afterward, and in his shaky, almost illegible handwriting, told me how talented dad was and how much he appreciated knowing that he was an important part of his life, and ours.
I hope I brought my dad's mentor a bit of happiness the day he read my letter. Regardless, it gave me so much joy to finally acknowledge him, especially when he least expected it. That truly is the power of a simple "thank you" -- it gives, but it gives back so much more. Now try it.
August 18, 2010 in Life Story, Opinion/Commentary | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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