my grave error.
The other day, when I was about to get off the train, I saw a woman burdened with several heavy bags. My first instinct was to immediately offer assistance - surely she could use some help carrying them to her car. My second instinct was to stop and think about it - what if I came across as creepy and/or weird? What if she didn’t want any help? How should I ask her? Before I knew it, the opportunity had passed, and she was already walking away.
As I headed to my car, I realized that I had made a grave error. In that moment, I allowed my fears to prevent me from being of service. I fell victim to my own over-analysis; my own insecurities. All I had to do was ask, and paradoxically my mouth had been sealed shut by the crazy voice inside my head.
I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve encountered this type of situation. I’ve missed so many chances to make someone’s day, or to do a good deed, just because I think about it too much. I’d be too nervous to say “Good morning” to the man I see cleaning the door handles of my office building, or to compliment a coworker’s new glasses. I can think about doing or saying these things all I want, but without action, even the best of intentions are essentially worthless.
I was a painfully shy child, and although I’ve come out of my shell a lot since then, I’m not very naturally inclined to start chatting up total strangers. Then again, experience is the best teacher, and I recognize that it’s been a while since I’ve really pushed myself beyond my comfort zone.
Given that this year’s resolution is to make every day feel like a new year, I’m resolving from here on out to make more of an effort to say what I want to say and do what I want to do. Offering help doesn’t only have to be reserved for the elderly and disabled, and I think that the world could do with a few more concerned and caring citizens after incidents like this. I think that I’ve slowly come to believe that the world is a scary place and that people are unkind, and though I know deep down that’s not true, cowering in the corner like a scared puppy won’t change a thing.
For now, I’ll write about my experience, from the safety of my computer, and hope that you, my brave and noble readers, will learn when to act (always) from my failure to do so. Tomorrow I’ll join the rest of you who are surely out there doing a world of good, but for now, it’s time to hit the mat, then curl in bed with the ever-inspiring Rilke’s “Letters to a Young Poet” and my journal.
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