Life is not like a theater play. It cannot be rehearsed.
October 11th, 2018
Yesterday after a long and stressful day at work, I badly needed to find time to run a few errands before going home to catch some much-needed rest. There was a lot of traffic jam because of the heavy rains earlier in the day. If I was going to have any decent chance of making it to the mall in time, my best bet was to use a boda boda (motorcycle taxi). So, I wrapped up my day’s assignments, gathered myself together and strolled out of the office. I crossed the road and waved down a passing boda boda. We exchanged pleasantries and began the hustle of navigating the traffic. In about fifteen minutes, I was at the mall. I paid my fare and thanked my driver for being patient with me. I had to dash to the ATM to withdraw cash as I didn’t have money on me.
I wanted to buy a success card for a daughter of a good friend of mine who starts her final exams this week. Since I was already at the bookstore, I used the opportunity to browse the shelves for some of the books on my to-read list. I was also looking for an inspirational book to gift another friend of mine. There’s something magical about the smell of the pages of new books. It’s therapeutic to say the least. Whenever I am at the bookstore, I tend to lose track of time. Somehow, I drift away to another world. Before I knew it I had spent an hour reading synopses and flipping through the pages of books. I could see the bookstore was closed. I had to head out. Paying little attention to the cashier, I handed her my debit card, took my items and dashed out. I had to be let out by the security guard since the store was now closed.
Just as I was heading to the exit of the mall, I remembered that I also needed to pick up some groceries. I turned around and dashed to grocery store. Just before it closed, I was able to beat the buzzer in the nick of time. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for (Men have horned the skill of shopping efficiently. I am not sure I can say the same about women). I tossed whatever I needed into the trolley and headed to the counter to pay for my groceries. I couldn’t wait to get home.
I wasn’t ready for what what was about to happen next.
“Good evening Sir, how are you today?” The cashier asked. She was polite. Most times, they look exhausted and never respond even when greeted. This one was different. She greeted me first.
“I am okay ma’am, ” I replied beaming back a smile. I took out my wallet and removed a crisp note, already anticipating the total price to pay.
“So tell me, how was your day?” she asked again. She was looking me straight in the eye, genuinely and eagerly waiting for what I was going to say next. I was still smiling but my mind was already at home. Did she just ask me how my day was? I was somewhat puzzled.
I looked over my shoulder just to make sure I wasn’t holding up the queue. Then I remembered that I was probably the only one left inside the store considering that I barely made it in earlier.
“My day was actually great!” I responded. In that moment my entire day played before me in High Definition and DOLBY Atmos: the picture was crisp and the surround sound so clear that you could hear an irregular heart beat.
I saw my boss breathing down my neck for a report he urgently needed.
I could also see him hounding me to complete another urgent assignment. Today, everything was urgent.
My day was anything but great. It totally sucked. I was exhausted.
Here I was, for starters rather shocked that the cashier was actually making conversation with me. She was a twenty-something year-old chocolate brown woman with eyes that screamed glowing curiosity.
“And how was your day?” I asked back, whilst giving her the money I owed for my groceries. Suddenly, as I starred into her eyes, the glow quickly faded away.
She handed me my change and looking to the ground crestfallen, she answered, “It wasn’t so nice.”
I felt my heart sinking. Her response broke my heart. I wasn’t sure if I should ask her what happened during her day. Deep inside me, I badly wanted to. I was feeling terrible.
“Can I put the groceries in the bag you are holding? I don’t think you need to buy another one,” she asked.
“Yeah, sure!” I responded.
“Have a good night Sir.”
She handed me my receipt. I was fighting with myself whether or not to ask her what was wrong.
“You too ma’am,” I replied as I grabbed my groceries. In a trance of sorts, I walked to the exit. As I walked through the scanner, I hoped that by some chance, the anti-theft alarm would go off. It didn’t.
I really hoped the alarm would go off, that security guard would stop me and check to see if I had helped myself to things I hadn’t paid for. Perhaps then I would be detained and in that moment, I would seize the chance to continue my conversation with the mystery cashier. I was day dreaming. The moment had passed me and it was gone forever. I didn’t memorize the name on her tag or pay close attention to her face. Even if I went back the following day looking for her, the odds of finding her were by far stacked against me.
So, do we really care? Do we mean the questions we ask? When you ask anyone: your friend, an acquaintance, colleague, even a stranger you meet at the grocery store “How are you?” are you genuinely interested in knowing how they are? Did they sleep well? Have they paid their rent? Are they behind on their bills? Did they have a meal? Are they in love? Are they heart broken? Or are you just going through the motions? I am guilty as charged for doing the latter. Life, no doubt, is certainly a mouthful to deal with. Too many curve balls thrown at us. Too many stormy days and a few days of sun shine. We all have our own fair share of struggles to deal with, but do we genuinely care? Why should be even care?
A couple of years ago while on a work engagement in Nairobi, Kenya I had an impromptu conversation with a colleague I had just met. She struck me as someone who lived life in the moment and had no place in her life for regrets. She said something that has since stayed lingering in my head. “Life is not like a theater play. It cannot be rehearsed.”
I am convinced there is depth to those words. Therefore, I am learning to have meaningful conversations; with my friends, the cashier at the grocery store or the waiter at the restaurant. I am learning to use every opportunity to say something uplifting like a complement. I think there’s power in doing that. Time is fleeting. We don’t get too many moments in life.
Through meaningful conversations I am inspired to be a better version of myself, and sometimes I might even be that inspiration someone is looking for. I am learning to live in the moment; to take chances that come my way without hesitating. I want to care. We all need to care more.
Time is fleeting. We don’t get too many moments in life.
Bright Onapito
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