I recently gave a workshop to folks
at an IT start-up. I lunched with three
of the participants. Rob (names changed)
shared that he was going back home to London for Christmas and was feeling
nervous. He hasn’t seen his parents or
his brother Ian in almost three years. Rob
revealed that he left home shortly after his brother disappeared. Ian, an accomplished artist and musician, is
a savant, a neuro-scientist with a Cambridge degree. Three years ago, after Ian’s girlfriend
dumped him, he suffered a breakdown and vanished. Rob and his family had no idea what had
happened to him. Not even Interpol could
help! Then last month, on Rob’s
birthday, he got a Skype call from Ian.
He was at a McDonald’s in a shopping mall in the south of France. He borrowed someone’s computer, as he’s
homeless.
Before Rob could continue this
incredible story, Kate, one of our tablemates, blurted out, “Oh god, but we’re
all so fragile!” We all nervously
laughed because she nailed it. Certainly, recent news events remind us of just
how fragile and vulnerable we all are.
And so I’ve been thinking – how do
we honor and protect our shared fragility, especially now as we celebrate Chanukah
and Christmas, sacred celebrations of the weak and vulnerable? My suggestion is simple – reach out and
surprise someone(s) with a “thank you.”
Recently Ed sent me a note via
Facebook thanking me for the kindness I’d shown him when he used to visit his
sister, Sheila, in Berkeley. Sheila and
I were in grad school and when Ed would visit her on his leaves from the Army, I’d
have them over for dinner. The truth is
I had forgotten about those dinners, but Ed hadn’t. His note took me by surprise and I’m grateful
that he reached out.
Before I sat down to write this
column, I had an email from Jared, an LMU student in whose class I guest spoke. He thanked me because my talk impacted how he
views himself as he prepares to graduate.
The truth is I left the class thinking no one had paid attention and
that I had wasted my time. You just
never know – until someone reaches out.
The best tweet I ever read simply
said, “What can I do for you?” During
this holiday season, maybe that’s the question we need to ask rather than, “what
can I get you?”
At the end of lunch, Rob thanked us
for listening to his odd story. He said
he didn’t feel as nervous. We felt
hopeful for him. And maybe that’s what
this season of holidays, this season of hope, is really all about – helping
each other feel less fragile.
