Your dear friend calls, she just delivered a bouncing baby boy.
This was the call you were waiting for and the gift bag is wrapped and ready right by the back door.
As you end the call, you aren't sure what to grab first - your keys, the gift, or your wallet.
All you know is you can't wait to drive across town to see this new person, smell his talcum scented-ness, feel his velvety soft skin, and hear those little coos and quiet contented sounds that only a newborn makes.
Close your eyes and imagine this situation.
Your heart rate increases with anticipation, joy, longing, and excitement.
Today, in the hall you passed that girl and couldn't remember her name, but you see her every day.
Why haven't you ever taken the time to speak to her? Is it the unfortunate way her nose is shaped? Those abnormally large hips that cause her to lumber instead of walking gracefully? Is it the clothing that is a size too small and years out of date? The un-groomed eyebrows and the nails that she chews every day? Why is it that you haven't taken the time to find out that her name is Jenny? That she's going through a divorce while trying to raise two small children and keep a roof over their heads? Did you know that Jenny's mom was once the excited voice on the other line inviting her friends and family to see her amazing newborn child? Did you ever stop to think about what happened to Jenny and the millions like her between birth and adulthood? When did we stop looking at Jenny as the beautiful, amazing, talented person filled with endless possibilities? Why aren't we beside ourselves with joy and elation at the thought of an opportunity to spend a moment with her? When she was born, people couldn't wait to touch her soft skin, and now we recoil at the thought of getting too close to her because she doesn't fit our mold of the ideal beauty.
Think about the Anais Nin quote: "Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
" We want to preserve those moments with an infant, our lover, our children, our dying parents, but re-read the quote: "EACH contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
" This is a strong statement, and if we truly agree with Anais Nin we will want to preserve the moments with people like Jenny from the above story, the clerk at the grocery store, the gentleman on the elevator, and the woman in the car next to us at the stoplight.
We may not be able to preserve each of those moments, but we can stop taking them for granted.
It's important to actually SEE those people instead of being overly concerned with where we are going, what we are doing, and our own quest.
Start with baby steps - start with just a smile and a nod.
Be welcoming and you'll find fewer missed opportunities and more moments worth preservation.
We could all afford to be a little more Anais-like from time to time
This was the call you were waiting for and the gift bag is wrapped and ready right by the back door.
As you end the call, you aren't sure what to grab first - your keys, the gift, or your wallet.
All you know is you can't wait to drive across town to see this new person, smell his talcum scented-ness, feel his velvety soft skin, and hear those little coos and quiet contented sounds that only a newborn makes.
Close your eyes and imagine this situation.
Your heart rate increases with anticipation, joy, longing, and excitement.
Today, in the hall you passed that girl and couldn't remember her name, but you see her every day.
Why haven't you ever taken the time to speak to her? Is it the unfortunate way her nose is shaped? Those abnormally large hips that cause her to lumber instead of walking gracefully? Is it the clothing that is a size too small and years out of date? The un-groomed eyebrows and the nails that she chews every day? Why is it that you haven't taken the time to find out that her name is Jenny? That she's going through a divorce while trying to raise two small children and keep a roof over their heads? Did you know that Jenny's mom was once the excited voice on the other line inviting her friends and family to see her amazing newborn child? Did you ever stop to think about what happened to Jenny and the millions like her between birth and adulthood? When did we stop looking at Jenny as the beautiful, amazing, talented person filled with endless possibilities? Why aren't we beside ourselves with joy and elation at the thought of an opportunity to spend a moment with her? When she was born, people couldn't wait to touch her soft skin, and now we recoil at the thought of getting too close to her because she doesn't fit our mold of the ideal beauty.
Think about the Anais Nin quote: "Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
" We want to preserve those moments with an infant, our lover, our children, our dying parents, but re-read the quote: "EACH contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
" This is a strong statement, and if we truly agree with Anais Nin we will want to preserve the moments with people like Jenny from the above story, the clerk at the grocery store, the gentleman on the elevator, and the woman in the car next to us at the stoplight.
We may not be able to preserve each of those moments, but we can stop taking them for granted.
It's important to actually SEE those people instead of being overly concerned with where we are going, what we are doing, and our own quest.
Start with baby steps - start with just a smile and a nod.
Be welcoming and you'll find fewer missed opportunities and more moments worth preservation.
We could all afford to be a little more Anais-like from time to time
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