"What? Why? Are you selling some green or something?"
"Yeah, you know. Just lookin' out; you never know where you'll find a customer!" Clearly my appearance was non-threatening and/or receptive enough that he'd feel comfortable asking me, a random stranger on a near-empty train car, if I wanted to purchase some marijuana.
"Ha! You better be careful," I told him, genuinely laughing for the first time that day. "And no, I'm good, but...thanks for asking?"
"No problem, just lookin' out," he said again. "Where are you from?"
Where am I from? What does one mean by that? I never really know how to answer that question, because the people who usually ask me that are hoping for an explanation as to why my "accent" is different. I've lived in Chicago the past five years. I grew up in Palatine, a northwest suburb. I was born in Michigan. My parents came here from Zambia 25 years ago. It has the potential to be a multi-faceted answer; but not one that will sufficiently "explain" anything. Depending on the asker and my perception of how in depth they really want to get, I'll either tell them all four facts, only one, or some combination.
"I live in the city, but I grew up in the suburbs," I decided to say in this case.
"Oh, okay, I gotcha. It's all right, I'm from the south; I used to sound white when I spoke too." But he didn't really get me, because there are plenty of black people who grew up in Palatine like myself whose vernacular is still different.
It's funny when people say that. It often happens when I'm around the city and interact with black strangers. I've come beyond getting offended. One could get all huffy and puffy and say, "Well, how can you talk like a color? How can one sound white?" It is what it is if you take the political correctness out of the equation. And PC just bugs the crap out of me.
Beyond that, though, this random stranger's forward question made me geuninely laugh out loud and sparked a friendly conversation for the 20-minute ride from Harlem to Ashland--one which would have been me brooding in silence and stress, perpetuating my bad mood into the rest of the night as I went home to do my work.
This past Monday I was beertending at Soldier Field for the last scheduled home game of the year (unless the Bears, by some miracle, make the playoffs). The unique thing about that stadium, and the season ticketholders' Cadillac Club in particular, is that there are so many employees in that building--alcohol servers, cleaning crew, security, guest services, Miller reps--and we all are hired and managed by different people. Especially in my position selling drinks, there's no real sense of teamwork or even real co-workers since we mainly work independent of one another.
During the game, this guy in his early twenties was making his rounds cleaning off counters and tables and throwing out trash. I'd seen him around on game days, and I made my judgments of him based on his appearance: a white kid with tattoos, saggy pants, a "swagger," longish hair and a whigger vernacular I overheard as he spoke to his particular co-workers.
At some point during the game he was clearing off empty beer cups from my stand and looked at the book I had on the counter. Yes, I bring books to work because there is SO much downtime--employees have to get there four hours before kickoff! I smiled, but kind of ignored him until he started talking.
"So what's a shaman?" He asked me. The book I'd brought with me, Daniel Pinchbeck's Breaking Open the Head, had intrigued him.
I explained to him that shamans explore the realms of different states of consciousness, often through consuming psychedelics naturally found on earth. Shamans do such for healing, or life revelation through divination, or to communicate and connect with the spiritual realm--much different from trips on mushrooms or acid or rolling on ecstasy, although I can't speak from firsthand experience on those three things.
Discussing the book sparked conversation about spirituality, life, and keepin' it real. I discovered that this kid wasn't much different from me and we had similar paradigms in regard to life, happiness, and being. It was refreshing, considering the number of people whom I genuinely like in the Soldier Field building is literally fewer than five.
And while I think neck tattoos are ridiculous, the ones on his hands were pretty cool:
Love life. Isn't that what it's all about?
I often seem to have synchronistic encounters with like-minded people in my day-to-day interactions. I generally find it relatively easy to "randomly" start conversations with people I don't know, albeit I have to be open to it--and that wasn't happening very much during the last couple weeks of school!
Regardless, I am a social person by nature who thrives on interaction with people. This happens to me daily in different forms, but you never know who will bring you back to the present moment and make you laugh and forget you have six projects due in 12 hours. And the kid you thought was just a douchebag cleaning boy may actually be able to hold a decent conversation, helping you to stop focusing on the cold air sweeping in the stadium club as the insane hardcore football fans walk in to defrost from subzero temperatures.
As I thought about the above brief encounters, I revisited an old article from Steve Pavlina's personal development website about Soulful Relationships. It's all about
Here is a short excerpt from that particular page:
The mindset of empowered relationships
Everyone you meet in your life — even total strangers — is already intimately connected to you. The idea that we are all separate and distinct beings is nothing but an illusion. We are all parts of a larger whole, like individual cells in a body.
Moreover, everyone and everything you see out there in your world are reflections of you. Just as the cells in an organism carry the same DNA, other people are walking around with some part of you inside them. When you look at other people, you’re really looking at yourself. When you notice other people, it’s just like your eyes observing your hands. We’re all parts of the same whole.
Here are some facets of this interconnected model of relationships:
- Connectedness - You don’t have to “build” relationships with others because you’re already connected. You need only tune into the pre-existing connection that’s already there.
- No risk - Little or no courage is required to approach strangers. You’re never actually building new connections from scratch. You’re just recognizing what’s already there.
- Equality - You can feel just as close to total strangers as you do to your friends.
- Significance - All relationships are significant; none are irrelevant. Even the strangers you pass on the street are important parts of you.
And some of the effects of the empowering mindset that we're all inherently connected:
- Synchronicity - You’ll experience a swell in synchronicities that lead to chance encounters, meeting people you feel very drawn to meet.
- Social courage - Have you ever seen someone at a distance you felt you were supposed to meet? Have you ever run into the same stranger multiple times in the same day? With the right belief system, you’ll feel confident beginning a conversation with such people, and you’ll find that your hunches were right on — you were supposed to meet.
- Deeper relationships - You’ll enjoy deeper, less superficial relationships, getting to know people at the level of soul.
- Energy - You’ll attract relationships that energize you rather than drain you.
- Reading people - Because we’re all connected, you can mentally connect with other people and literally share the same thoughts in a way that goes beyond words, voice, and body language. You can even do it at a distance.
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Now, I'd be lying if I said I don't make snap judgments about people by first impressions and outward appearances--but I tell the truth when I say I believe you can find something good in everyone.
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