RSS feedGina Trapani had an interesting post today on her ever wonderful scribbling net, about an experience from her childhood, which reminded me of a personal quest which I embarked upon several years ago.
As human beings we are unique in that the sum of our experiences makes us who we are, and makes no two interactions between people the same. This raises the opportunity for each interaction to be fairly significant in either one or both of the participants’ lives. This is why these days I try to make each experience with a new person if not unique, then at least interesting to some degree.
Today I picked up some lunch at the local Bakers’ Delight, and there’s a rant or two in them let me tell you, but out of holiday season, they tend to use older and less communicative women to man (sic) the store. For the last two months or so the same three or four have been behind the counter, without so much as an interaction beyond “Anything else?” and “This one, or the one next to it?” But today for some reason, well I know the reason, but I’ll get to that later, for now pretend that I don’t know.
Today for some reason, they spoke! Wonder of wonders. The line?
Not blue today?
After a moment pondering the philosphical significance of shopkeepers who can only speak in questions, I worked out what she meant, and the conversion went thus:
SKWCOSIQ #1: Not blue today?
RBF: No, had to visit a prospect.
SKWCOSIQ #2: Was it spray on?
RBF: No, full bleach and dye.
SKWCOSIQ #1: Where’s the blue?
RBF: [speaking slowly and enunciating clearly]I work in I.T., and I had to visit a customer, so I dyed it black.
SKWCNJSIQ #2: Oh, we miss you!
WTF? Not they used to miss me, or they would miss me, but they do miss me. When I’m there with blue hair, for some strange reason I’m a permanent fixture of Bakers’ Delight, and obviously not an interesting enough departure from everyday life to warrant non-baker type interaction. Yet when I walk in with black hair, suddenly I’m the guy! I’m the one they want to talk to, because I’ve changed something in their repetitive world of selling heated flour and water. They’ll probably tell their families when they get home about the interesting thing that happened at work today, the guy with blue hair that dyed it black. I’ve probably impacted the lives of at least a dozen people by dying my hair black. That’s pretty cool when you think about it. But then, while I’m important enough to warrant interaction, there’s a denial that I’m actually me. “I’m sorry, but you’re not the guy with blue hair!” Apology accepted, and I am flattered that I made it onto their RADAR. Hopefully the interaction was significant for them, as obviously it was enough for me to blog about it.
So we are the sum of our experiences, they define our opinions, our emotions and our character, and it wasn’t until a few years ago that I realised how important our experiences are. A few of you dear readers may have a similar situation, but there is a very clear and obvious moment in my history which absolutely defines most of who I am, and I didn’t even realise it until I was well into my 30s. Since then, I’ve tried to remember other influential, if not so defining, moments in my life, and tried to bring closure to them, another technique I learnt a few years back. Not because I need such closure, but so I can free my mind of the frustration of moments not taken advantage of and situations which adversely affected or still affect my emotions. Either that or I’m afraid of dying with the only memory of me being the epitaph:
An opinionated punk who never grew up, and liked to dye his hair blue.
Not exactly the four main memorable components of my character, but accurate none the less.
Anyway, it is quite amazing when you think back to events and suddenly realise why they happened, and how they’ve made you the person you are. I’m not saying we should remember, find closure and forget, but remember, find closure and be more comfortable with the past, less embarassed perhaps, less angry, more understanding, and perhaps more thankful. For with experience of all the good and all the bad, we are the unique individuals that we are. And I for one, wouldn’t change a thing. Except perhaps my hair? Do you think green would suit me? Or perhaps I should go back to red, chicks liked red, or maybe…
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