I stopped at the book shop on the way to the train to grab something to read – and the guy behind the counter took the time to ask how my day was going while.
I grabbed the bus just on the way home - and the driver told me to watch out for the ice and mind my step when we reached my stop.
I found myself thinking about how nice they both were as I wandered up my driveway and then realized – when did it become so rare to be nice?
We plough around this world, jostling from one thing to the next. I like to think I do my best to think about the people around me, to inquire about their day, to caution them against the ice. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I forget in the rush of it all.
And then I come across someone who does it for me and realize I’m probably not trying hard enough at all .
There is something to be said for the P’s and Q’s, just like our mothers once told us. There is something to be said for taking the time to look a person in the eye, and really listen when they speak. There is something to be said for the little things and the chivalrous things and the hold-the-door-for-the-guy-behind-you things.
And tomorrow, I’m going to try just a little harder to remember that. Tonight, I’m too busy trying to figure out why my parchment paper is leaking again to be nice to anyone at all.
Oh, for crying out loud. I am so sick of hypocrisy.
I know, I know. It’s a lame thing to complain about. It’s like saying I’m frustrated about being short. Ain’t nothing going to change that. And just like there will always be nice people and not nice people, there will always be people who walk their own talk, and people who just talk a good game.
Either way, I’m still sick of it.
I am not perfect. To be honest, I don’t really think there’s such a thing as the perfect person anyways. I make plenty of mistakes (most of which you’ve read about already) and I generally feel like I have no idea what I’m doing (and that’s on a good day). With that in mind, I give things my best shot, and at the end of the day I can count on this: If I said I was going to do something, I did it. If I said I believed in something, I lived it. If I said I cared about something, I showed it. And that’s about it.
Hypocrites, though, that’s a whole different animal. The ones I know who’ve perfected this art don’t even seem to notice that others are picking up on their slips. They’re too busy pontificating to really notice the irony of their own ways. And that’s the part that drives me friggin’ nuts.
But like I said, it’s just one of those things. We can’t control other people, just ourselves. So what do I do? I surround myself by the genuine article. I count my good friends on one hand, and I give thanks for having them, for knowing that they’re sincere, and for the comfort it brings to know that around these guys and gals, I don’t have to worry about my own imperfections. Because they’re not judging them anyways. Instead of giving more energy to someone who isn’t really what they say, I prefer instead to focus on people who bring the real deal to the table instead. Because these are the people who deserve celebrating.
PS Wow, do I feel better now.
