Writing this, I’d only just gotten my 4th Covid shot and was feeling woozy. Rather than working on my novels, for several days I slept, hence this post is short. Fortunately, as of this morning, I’m back to a very grateful normal. Besides the added immunity, I’m especially appreciative that for the first time since I got Covid a year and a half ago, earl grey tea doesn’t smell like moldy onions, and lemons don’t give off a chemical non-citrus fragrance. These things can come and go, so I’m almost superstitious about telling you that perhaps my long Covid is finished…
Wouldn’t life be so much easier if all good people wore white cowboy hats and bad ones wore black ones? Something, anything, to give us a one-size-fits-all way to sniff out flower-scented nice folk from stinking pee-yew creeps?
This is a plea for all of us to remember that intentions are everything.
Micro and macro aggressions definitely exist. To expect them before we’ve hardly laid eyes on someone, however, is to water seedlings of distrust and to give them free rein to take over.
It’s bad enough we had the Trump reign dividing us. Then came covid, with all the finger-pointing of who washed, masked, and vaccinated. Gender labels and pronouns (explained here by Suzanne Craig-Whytock) can be tricky for some (a video about it here) more than others. Lately I’ve read that inquiring into someone’s cultural background ought to be off limits.
Like I said, intentions are everything. Bearing that in mind, the world becomes a wonderful place.
Using differences as opportunities to learn more about each other, we build bridges. If someone asks us something, it’s okay to ask them why they want to know and not answer. Personally, I love learning about others and they’re often flattered that I’m interested. Allowing missteps to become gentle teaching moments, we learn what someone’s intentions are.
A couple of yoga class examples, from pre-pandemic days when I didn’t take zoom classes, that I know aren’t exactly the same thing but somehow relate:
- One day a classmate arrived a little late and was clearly frazzled. When she put down her mat, it blocked the view of a student behind her. The rear student fumed, yet didn’t say anything to the distracted yogini in front. “Yogic serenity” for everyone nearby, though, was decimated. Thank you, rear classmate, for teaching me that when someone later blocked my view, the answer was to tap their shoulder and gently ask them to move a few inches.
- Inside that yoga studio’s dressing room, the beleaguered rear classmate encountered a tote bag on the changing bench. She fumed that she couldn’t sit down. It wasn’t mine, but I placed it on the floor. Problem was solved.
When I shared these types of stories with a friend, she argued that one shouldn’t have to “shoulder the burden” of educating cretins. Bravo to anyone who’s never an ignoramus. Alas, I can and will be one all too often. Thank you, thank you, thank you nice people who’ve been gracious to me.
Please don’t let us all become so afraid of each other that we make ourselves miserable and we never mix with people unlike ourselves. Let’s try to assume the best, speak from our hearts, and think of each other as individuals we might have more in common with than not, rather than generalities.
(For sure this is off-topic — but just wonderin’ and to see whether you’re still with me — I recently was diagnosed as pre-diabetic. If you’re vegetarian and count carbs and/or glycemic load, yet avoid getting overloaded with fats and becoming a walking skeleton, what are your best tips?)
Being gracious costs nothing. Better yet, it doesn’t make anyone lose sleep, doesn’t raise blood pressure, and maybe even prevents someone from kicking their dog — or worse…
What do you do when a stranger gets on your nerves?