Sometimes I like people I don’t know better than the people I do know

“Sometimes I like people I don’t know better than the people I do know.”

A friend said that to me the other day. I laughed and told her that she was weird, so she gave me an example of a woman who gave her a stack of bus tickets for free because she got them at work and thought my friend seemed like a nice person.

That got me thinking later on about the things people do for others.

There have been many times when people that I do not know offer to help me with things. Just the other day, I was wheeling myself in the rain from the parking lot to my apartment. A couple was walking out from my building. The young woman saw me and rushed towards me. I didn’t even notice it. She quickly came up beside me and held her umbrella over me and walked with me to my apartment so I wouldn’t get wet.

And there were so many times, in the months after my accident and even to this day, that people I hardly knew really made a lasting impression on me. I have received kind words and sometimes guidance via visits, phone calls, e-mails, and messages. I now consider some of these people “angels” or “saints” for me. Those who frequently visited me in the hospital are included. If anyone from my class is reading this, there are some of you who I have the utmost respect for and you may be unaware of it. It may just due to something you said to me or did for me that you do not even remember.

Why does it mean more to us when these people do things for us?

Because we do not expect it. Perhaps we expect too much from the people we know. We want them—sometimes need them—to do things for us. They were there for us in happy times. Shouldn’t they be here us when we need them? We certainly like to think so.

Also, we do not know the flaws of a stranger. Our impression of them is not clouded by the previous things they have said or done. We only know the benevolent action.

Can we not continue to appreciate our friends and those close to us as if each action is being done with purity? The question, “Can you get this for me please? I’d appreciate it,” becomes the statement, “Get that for me,” after a while with those with whom we are close. We seem to lose our gratitude towards them.

But perhaps that’s the sign that people really are close to us. We understand that certain things are not a burden for them. It took me a long time to be able to ask for help from people—even from my close friends. After my accident, I noticed my closest friends becoming frustrated with me when I asked things politely or thanked them for an action. They should know that although I do not thank them often for the things they do, even the smallest things are appreciated by me. I love you all.

And what makes strangers want to do things for us? What do they get out of it? They may not see us again. We can never repay them.

Perhaps that’s it: the purity of intention. Doesn’t it feel great to help someone pick up some papers they dropped, or offer them your seat when they seem tired, or do any other miniscule action? The smile they may or may not give us in return is more than anything tangible we could ever receive.

When everything seems to be falling down around us, instead of hoping someone does something to help us, why not do something for someone else? I know I feel a lot better when I do this.

Mama's Boy

It’s the little things that are missed. I’m sure people can relate to that.

Example: the little things about someone, like the strange things they do, or the way your friend can make you laugh at the stupidest things.

Another example: the little things about a place, like the smells or the way the sun peaks through the trees, accentuating certain things.

One of the memories I have that I miss is cramming hard and sleeping later during the week, hanging out Friday night, waking up late Saturday morning, going to Mama’s Boy for brunch, and then going for a walk in the park out behind the restaurant.

I go to school down the street from there now but I’ve haven’t been since I graduated from undergrad.

That’s a sweet memory, though. Mama’s Boy has a little parking out front so when it gets busy—as it usually does on weekends for brunch—you have to park out back. I remember a bridge. Is it something you have to cross to get to the park or is it overhead? Am I even thinking about the right place?

Some of my favorite memories have been in parks: going to a park near a friend’s place and wading through the river; mountain biking with my friend on the trails in another park; going to Stone Mountain Park with some friends and having trouble grilling up hotdogs (I was told that happened the day before my accident? It seems like decades ago).

Now that parks and the things I did aren’t accessible for me anymore, I miss them. I think it's the peace that they bring me. The grass, the tress, the sun--I love being wrapped by these things. I want to lay out in the grass and take in these things.

I always get nostalgic around exam time when I am trapped inside studying.

Just like we should enjoy the time we spend with people because they may not be here soon, we should enjoy the places we spend time in. Maybe it’s not the places that are significant. Perhaps it’s the people we were with and the memories that were made at that particular time and place. After all, it’s not where you are or what you do; it’s who you’re with that really matters.

Random thought 1/7/11, 11:30 PM

Sometimes, I scratch that place on my thighs right above my knees. I remember I used to randomly scratch it for some reason because it would itch slightly. Now, I think I can still feel it every so often, so I give myself the comfort of scratching it.

A new perspective on perspectives

I thought about writing more on this topic, then thought against it. Now I keep thinking about it so I am writing about it so I can focus on other things.

Come on. We may think our lives suck sometimes. Or in some cases, we may think that life itself sucks and there is no point to it. What gives us the right to be better off than others? My, that's a very selfless thought, one may say.

One simple way to turn thoughts around of our own life sucking is by seeing those that are less privileged in order to gain some perspective.

But everyone knows that. We’re just ignorant and stuck in our own privileged world and enjoy complaining about little things like our parents being too stern or when we don’t get what we want. We choose to turn away from realizing the pain and hardships of others.

Okay, instead of thinking about the negatives that others have, I propose that we think of things in a different way: these so-called unprivileged—those living in poverty, those who are sick or disabled, those who have lost family members, those who are politically oppressed, those who are physically or mentally incapable of doing things, those who have lost most of their family members—what keeps them wanting to live then? They don’t have what we have. Why do they fight every single day to breathe, to get that one drop of water, to wake up in the mornings?

Think about it.

"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."

I remember saying to a good friend how I should have started a blog when I was in the hospital. She said she is glad I didn't. I was really struggling with coping at the time and it probably would not have been good to keep a written record to look back on of that time.

I think now I am going to occasionally write little stories and experiences from my lengthy hospital stay after my accident. That time period had a profound effect on who I am now and, similar to my birthday post, I don’t want to ever forget about “my roots”.

After only a few weeks in the hospital, I started becoming restless. I was losing it.

“This is Shawshank, man,” I would tell my friend. I was referring to The Shawshank Redemption, an amazing movie depicting prisoners in the 1940’s. What I meant by saying that was that I felt like I was in prison.

In the movie, Andy Dufrense, played by Tim Robbins, is wrongly accused of murdering his wife and then sent to a maximum security prison. I also felt like I didn't do anything to deserve my situation, yet I was doing time.

Just like a prison, I had no privacy because nurses or other hospital staff members were always entering the room.

Just like a prison, I couldn’t go anywhere because the colored tag on my wheels said I couldn’t go past a certain hallway—until I got the prison equivalent of “privileges for good behavior” and was then allowed to go outside the hospital into the courtyard. I couldn’t leave.

Just like a prison, I had to stick to a schedule and for quite some time, had to eat simple mashed food (and drink thickened water, but I’m guessing they didn’t have that in Shawshank).

There was no way out. I was stuck. The Shawhsank Redemption was real life for me.

Recently, I was told that I’m still stuck in Shawshank. A short dialogue from the movie:

Andy Dufresne: That's the beauty of music. They can't get that from you... Haven't you ever felt that way about music?
Red: I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it though. Didn't make much sense in here.
Andy Dufresne: Here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don't forget.
Red: Forget?
Andy Dufresne: Forget that... there are places in this world that aren't made out of stone. That there's something inside... that they can't get to, that they can't touch. That's yours.
Red: What're you talking about?
Andy Dufresne: Hope.
Red: Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.

Later, Andy says to Red, “Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”

Hope is stupid, I was also starting to think. It takes a lot of strength to keep hoping for things. It’s for the ignorant.

I had to be reminded that hope is a good thing. No good thing ever dies. Hope is what sustained Andy though his trials, and it is what got me through mine.

Once hope is lost, there is no middle ground. One may argue that one can simple accept things and move on, but if you can’t win something, you've lost it. You've been defeated. Hope doesn't mean being totally ignorant and believing things will be exactly normal and dreamlike. Hope means knowing that there is a capacity for things to change, to be better, and with this hope, one can use his/her abilities to work towards that.

They will ask me why I wasn't as great as Zusha.

It is told that the great Chasidic master, Reb Zusha of Anapoli, cried bitterly as he lay on his deathbed. His students, who had gathered around their master during his final hours, wondered, "Dear Rebbe, you have molded so many students and you have done so much good in the world. Why are you crying?"

The rabbi answered, "Soon I will no longer be here. I will be facing the Heavenly Court. They will not ask me why I was not as great as Moses was, because I was not supposed to be as great. They will not ask me why I was not as great as Maimonides, because I was not supposed to be. They will not ask me why I was not as great as the Baal Shem Tov, because I was not supposed to be. They will ask me why I wasn't as great as Zusha. And for this I do not have an answer."

God gives every individual certain abilities and talents. It is up to each one of us to find and use these abilities to the fullest. This does not mean that every person must familiarize himself with Torah like the Vilna Gaon, compose music like Beethoven, or paint like Van Gogh. The talents bestowed on us may not be the same as the ones possessed by those individuals. It is every person's purpose in life to find what treasures lay within him. He must then use those gifts to the greatest of his ability for the service of God and man.

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The piece above was taken from the following Jewish web site: http://www.innernet.org.il/article.php?aid=508

The above story often comes to mind but it was not until recently that I chose to accept it and follow it. During times of frustration, I suggest others read this story again.

Pretty much each week, I find myself extremely frustrated. If I hadn’t started buzzing my hair short again, I would probably be pulling it out and end up looking like Homer Simpson.

I have to apologize for my lack of posts over the last several months. There has been so much going through my mind and I have actually written a few posts and have them saved on my computer but have not posted them because they seem incomplete and scrambled to me.

There have been times over the past several months when I have been really down. “Why am I not doing so well?” I would ask myself. I have been working harder than all my classmates. I hardly get much sleep, I spend all day/night in my books or staring at a computer screen, I cannot remember the last time I did something fun, I have not exercised in forever, I am barely making it in terms of grades, I am unhappy with the way things are going everyday… the list could go on.

So what’s my problem? Comparing myself to others.

Constantly comparing the work I am putting in and the results I am getting to others has been very detrimental. I have to remind myself to compare me to me. Am I working to the best of my abilities? Or am I just fooling myself? Is there something I could do more efficiently? Why am I having trouble?

If we do the best that we can do, how can we be disappointed? We shouldn’t try to be as good as someone else, we should try our best to be as good as ourselves. Now, are we doing our absolute best? After calming down and realizing this simple concept, we can watch our efficiency and our contentment go up. I’ll read that above story again. Try it out.

Georgia Medical News

Oh sweet, I made it to the front page of GeorgiaHealthNews.com:

http://www.georgiahealthnews.com/2010/11/04/a-portrait-in-perseverance/