Others

Tonight, I was desperately trying to open a pickle jar. Like, I was to the point of banging it on the counter, at the point that I was afraid I might have to give up and get my brother to open it the next time he was here (which would mean he might eat half of my pickles as payment). My poor roommate, who maybe has the flu, asked about all the banging (she may have thought I was dying in the kitchen) and told me all I had to do was wedge the end of a spoon under one of the dents around the mouth of the lid and I could lever it and break the seal. Did it work? Easily. And was my pickle delicious? You bet.

While I was finally enjoying my pickle, I started thinking, not just about how handy my roommate's suggestion was, but also about how helpful and necessary others are to us. My sick roommate was willing to help me even though she felt like death; living with her helps me not worry about constantly getting mugged as much as I did when I lived alone. It's true that other people can be frustrating, and I'm one of the first to talk about how I'd like to work in a closet at work or secretly wish I could do things without always having to be friendly and talk to a thousand people. But, really, others are what we need. Others help us accomplish things we couldn't do on our own; they allow us to better understand what we believe, and may help us in establishing and changing those beliefs. And, one thing I've always thought but really have learned so much more by working with the public is that everyone has a story. It may be happy, or sad, or a roller coaster, but everyone has one. While there is always the possibility that others can hurt us, they more often help and encourage us.

So, maybe this wasn't an interrobang moment. But I hope that I can at least remember to try to appreciate the next person who makes me want to lock myself away.