Walking Right By

I remember my mother saying to the five of us when we were young, "You just walked right by!" Usually it was a pair of shoes someone was looking for, or a book, or a paper.  If we were looking for something in the fridge, she would say, "Look with both hands!"  Usually that was my brother looking for the ketchup or something, and he would just stand in front of the fridge waiting for the ketchup to appear from behind the milk instead of moving the milk!  Or looking for socks in the sock basket, that definitely takes two hands.  Now I find myself, and of course it's very cliche, saying the same things my mother said.  You can't find the barbecue sauce, Look with both hands!  You can't find your backpack, You just walked right by!  You can't find the keys, You just walked right by!  And sometimes the kids say this to me too - MOM, You just walked right by!  (I can never seem to find my shoes- I never outgrew that.)  It's funny in our house because we have the black table and the brown table and the brown drawer and the black drawer.  The keys are on the black table - and you just walked right by!  I think I should put labels on the tables and drawers because inevitably the thing my kids are looking for is on the other table or in the other drawer.

I think we walk right by a lot in life if we aren't paying attention.  I walk right by when there's a chance for an encounter that I should take.  A neighbor calls out, "How was vacation?" and since I'm going for my run, I just say, "Great! Thanks!" and walk right by, instead of saying that I can't believe we're back already and thanks, by the way, for watching the dog, and when are you going on your vacation?  A grocery clerk asks how I'm going to prepare my cube steak for dinner, and I just say, "Oh, I don't know," instead of engaging, telling her I was wondering how to make aioli sauce and I would have to look it up when I got home and does she think that would be good and how long does the steak have to cook?  A salesperson tells me they like my necklace, and I just say, "Oh, it's old," instead of saying it was my grandmother's and I love it and I love to wear it.  It doesn't take much to go one extra step toward an encounter, but I just walk right by, sometimes running in the opposite direction.

I heard a priest tell a story of a time he was picking up pizzas for his high school students.  He ran into an old acquaintance at the pizza shop, but he was so distracted by the task he had to do, so eager to get back to the students, that he quickly shut down the conversation that could have ensued and he returned to school.  Once at school he realized there was no urgency to the pizza.  The kids weren't ready to eat yet anyway, all still busily working on their projects.  Yet it was too late to go back to find the old friend in the pizza shop.

I tell myself I'm going somewhere, I have places to be, too.  I say I have to get going and I walk right by.  I know we all say we're busy, but what are we busy doing?  Five extra minutes here, an extra smile there, instead of walking right by, could go a long way.  In Positive Psychology they promote having 3 genuine encounters with others, even complete strangers, each day.  It takes practice if you are shy, or rushed, or busy, or whatever excuse we might use to get out of the room.   I have to slow down and recognize the person who I am talking to.  I have to take a breath and stop moving at warp speed.  Maybe there is something to the other phrase my mother used, "Look with both hands."  Of course she meant to move the milk out of the way.   I think it also means to look at each other with both eyes, a little more closely.  Maybe we have to move ourselves out of the way, to step aside and let the moment unfold, let the relationship take precedence, and let a little love out.  And maybe, if we look with both hands, we'll find a little love behind the milk.