Every person has a story and everyone is going somewhere. I've heard it said that one should live their life in such a way that if it were a written in a book someone would want to read it. I don't know about that. The thought of whether or not my life would be a best-seller does not particularly drive me. I believe, every man's story is worth telling and worth listen to. I've said it before that getting to know a person is one of the highest forms of entertainment; and there's a subtle truth in that. It is wonderful to learn about a person on level deeper than "Hi" and to try to understand them. Incredibly insightful. I have never been disappointed in the understanding that people should be known, and I've found that even people I may be tempted to label as 'simple' are inordinately complex. The 'why's and passed years weigh on all of us and impressed upon us their seals of maturity, denial, wisdom, and mistake. Unavoidable. Unmaskable.
We are complex because the human heart does not lend itself to being simple. Even so, the greatest minds I've ever know have striven years for simplicity--trying to attain oneness of character. Consistency. I've read of artists who spent their whole lives learning to paint like a child. They want that simplicity back, and why? It might be that as children we were the most alike. We all wanted food and mothers. To be cared for in ways didn't have to understand. In the relative simplicity of childhood, we must have been so close to each other. Now that we're grown, does that mean every man is an island? If we are, we must certainly be an archipelago because we're all connected below the surface.
Sometimes sitting in the cafeteria, I'll see someone, and for whatever reason, they will catch my mind's attention. As I eat my meal, I think about that person sitting down with their friends across the room, and I wonder where they were born, who they love, and how the events of the world led them to sit in that particular chair. Most times, wondering is enough for me, but other times it is not. I can't explain why it's not, but I feel drawn to ask that person a question. Usually, I do not ask. How strange would it be to ask a stranger who they love? I think the answer would be a long one.
I think similarly of shacks and overgrown buildings on the side of a road. I have to wonder when they were built and who built them. I think of how proud the owner must have been when he first walked into his new and beautiful building. What were his plans? I learn names about as well as a monkey learns state capitals, but do I wonder a lot.
There is no such thing as a simple person.
1 comment:
I think a question you are getting at is very hard to answer. I think, for me, it starts coming down to meaning. Everything you mentioned, like houses and people, will eventually pass along and just be things on the side of the roadway. Religious or not, I figure most people sense that.
Even if people aren't simple, maybe they have some pretty simple things down which are good. For example, I have heard that it doesn't matter what you do, or what you say, but rather people will only remember how you made them feel. I think a connection is crucial, maybe even enough to suggest that it would be good for you to approach people once and a while with questions. Michael Sellers asked a guy one time, "What's your story?" That was hard for him to answer, but I thought it was a great question. I'd like to be able to answer it and often, I wouldn't mind someone asking me.
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