Curious.
Pierre likes coffee. Me, too. But Pierre from Normandy (not sure if that’s related) says he likes to put pepper in his, especially when he has a lot of reading to do at once. Here’s how he goes about it:
I generally stay away from peppers in drinks, but Pierre swears by it. Works well with mint tea, too, he says.
The basement of Geisel Library has these super-sweet headphones that you can borrow with your student I.D. — the kind that curls around your ear and makes it so that Taylor Swift can serenade you as you write your e-mails and do your homework.
I tend to go into the library during the same times, so I see the same folks behind the receptionist counter. One woman in particular has a warm smile that can brighten the entire room.
“Hi there, could I borrow some headphones?”
“Sure”, she would say. Or: “sorry, we’re out.”
“Okay, no worries.” I knew her in no other context, although I would find myself hoping to see her again whenever I borrow headphones.
Then last Friday I saw her up in the town of Del Mar; apparently we both knew the birthday boy. We had a solid conversation about what we wanted to do with our lives in the backyard. She wants to be a middle school or high school teacher, “even if they’re a handful”. I didn’t have a straight answer myself, but I said something about education or healthcare looking interesting, since I’ve found that “uhh, I don’t know” never really gives anything for the other person to build off of or respond to in conversations (even if it’s true). She gave me her beer.
This morning she recognizes me. “Wesley, right?” I’m elated that she remembers, but now I feel doubly bad for not remembering hers. Most library employees wear a name tag, but she is not wearing hers today. (Of course that would happen). I remember everything else!! I wanted to say.
“Nancy, right?”
“It’s Haley.”
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There are bigger things to worry about in the world, but it’s still embarrassing.
I went to a student talk about finding happiness and fulfillment the other day. He introduced himself as a motivational coach, bouncing around the stage, projecting his voice and striking the same power poses I saw in that TED talk about the importance of body language. He was a smiley guy.
I like to think of myself as a smiley guy, too, so I was curious if we shared similar perspectives on life. I found him afterwards and asked: “so what do you do when you’re sad?”
I ask this because when you’re known as a smiley person, sometimes people (usually acquaintances) will begin to question your motives, your sanity, and your place in your life. They’ll make comments like:
After a while it starts to hurt. I have other thoughts and feelings, too! I wondered if he felt the same kind of disconnect at times.
“No man, you just gotta stay positive, day after day. You gotta make it a habit until it becomes a part of you”. It was just the two of us speaking, but he still kept the stage persona. The conversation didn’t go further than that, and I walked away feeling frustrated.
I’m all for healthy habits, but there’s also the point where you have to acknowledge other emotions, too. What about loneliness? Disappointment? Envy? Anger?
Know the scope of those “negative” emotions and you will find new ways to relate and connect with the people you care about. That’s where true emotional depth and fulfillment comes from.
But hey, maybe he knows something I don’t.
Last quarter I found myself working with some incredible people. Older, disciplined, and with the skills & enthusiasm to bring their big ideas to life. They’re the kind of people you would look at and say, “yeah, they have it together.” In other words: you want to be in their group for a school project.
And I was! How exciting.
But then doubt started to settle in: I was the most junior out of the three. I had no experience. No intuition or previous exposure to the relevant subject. (Meanwhile, they both had years of research and industry experience). Intelligence and growth are not static, but I wouldn’t be able to match their expertise within a semester, let alone a year. This wasn’t pessimism speaking, just reality.
At first it felt more comfortable to put the doubt on them. Why did they ask me to join their group? They must have made a mistake in asking me. How long will it take for them to realize that? All those questions were a way of dodging the underlying fear: that I would never measure up to their abilities, and that halfway through the semester, they would find out that I’m no good and boot me out of the group.
~
That never happened. They were both very sweet and encouraging, but I remember stressing a lot about that.
When you are working with people who are, objectively speaking, out of your league — realize that there is still something you can offer, even if it is just a different perspective. Get three different people from the same discipline and position in life and you will have three different people offer the same solution to the problem. That’s why you’re in the mix: to put some fresh blood into the group.
Work less on judging on yourself, and work more on what you can give to the group and to other people. You’ll find that:
All this from a subtle change in mindset.
My roommate Victor from France tells me that his favorite moment of the night is when he finally takes off his shoes, knowing that he won’t be putting them on again until the sun comes up the next day. He tells me this as he sits on the sofa, feet on the coffee table.
I thought it would be him enjoying the late night snack (potatoes + garlic + onions) he just fried at 1 AM in the morning; perhaps it’s the combination of the two.
The other day I was sluggish getting out of bed. I took my phone out and starting scrolling down the Facebook feed; only my thumb is moving at this point. Up comes a status update from my old neighbor. It’s been over a year since we’ve last spoken.
There she is, just as I remember. This time she looks cheerful in the hospital room, about to go through her first round of chemo.
Wait, what?
~
I didn’t stay in bed for long.
We’d always gotten along, but we lost contact after we moved away. I sent her a message the same day, but it shouldn’t take cancer for one person to reach out to another.
She’ll be okay. But just as she says in her own words, nobody expects to get cancer at 22. (I’m 20 now — when will it be my turn?) How unsettling, that it can happen to any one at any time.
Despite being a legal adult, I’m still dependent on my family for taking care of the taxes — the same way I can be dependent on my family’s medical insurance until age 26 (thanks Obama!).
It’s still socially acceptable as a third-year university student to be dependent on parents or family members for financial support (especially when you’ve entered university straight out of high school). I am lucky. Many don’t have that extra layer of cushioning.
But cushioning or not — after graduation, I’d better get my crap in order.
Start now.
Hannah wanted some bananas for banana bread, and I told her I had a couple to spare. They were a bit brown though.
The bananas weren’t rotten. They tasted fine earlier in the morning with my oatmeal, and they tasted fine earlier in the afternoon with my peanut butter sandwich, but they were brown and mushy enough for me to think twice about offering them to someone else. Good neighbors don’t give other good neighbors rotten crap, right? Would giving someone else a rotten banana suggest that I’m a rotten person myself? I show her the bananas.
“Oh no, that’s perfect! Thank you.”
Relief. (and now I get fresh banana bread)