I Think: How Thinking Like a Kid Can Change Your Life

 
 
 
 
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I can’t drive by one particular Mobil station without thinking about Loretta. She’s my soul mate.

Let me explain.

A few years ago, I was invited to an 80s club not too far from home. I left my apartment with my hair styled circa 1980s in asymmetrical fashion, rockin’ some hot pink pumps, an off the shoulder top, and some lightning bolt earrings. I realized I needed gas, so I stopped along the way to refuel. Probably because I was in a hurry, the credit card machine wasn’t working at the pump (of course), so I had to go inside the gas station.

As I entered the tiny store, I could see a woman meandering through one of the aisles. She was wearing a hospital bracelet and carrying a clear plastic bag which held a few of her own belongings. I surmised that she had been discharged from a hospital very recently. I realized that she was visually impaired when a couple of men moved aside and gently guided her to the cash register so she could pay for the twelve-pack of beer she was holding. Upon hearing me speak to the store clerk, she asked me to escort her to the railroad tracks behind the gas station. I paused for a split second, conflicted about what she was asking me to do because it was clear that she was setting herself up to drink—alone. Although my initial reaction was to refuse offering my assistance, I promptly decided to allow this woman her right to self-determination. As she lumbered up the incline alongside me, toward the train tracks, she asked me to call Carlos. When I reached Carlos’ voice mail, I was advised to leave a message telling him to “come and meet Loretta to drink at the railroad tracks behind the Mobil Station.” I asked her if she needed anything else, and she said, “no, thank you.” I went on to the 80’s club to meet my friends. And it began to rain.

I have often wondered how the rest of that evening went for Loretta. I wonder if Carlos ever showed up. I wonder if she remained safe there in the dark, drinking alone in the rain alongside the railroad tracks. From my perspective, her evening could have only gone downhill after I left. Picking up a twelve-pack to drink in solitude would never be my idea of a good time—or a good choice. But my brief interaction with Loretta reminded me to not to judge the choices of others. I don’t have the right to judge Loretta’s choice or what led her to this moment in time. I am a Social Worker. The motto of my profession is, “meet them where they are,” meaning we are compelled to engage our clients by meeting them where they are—emotionally, mentally, physically, and philosophically versus judging them or telling them how and where to “be.”

Author Gary Zukav asserts that the Earth is filled with roughly seven billion potential “soul mates.” Zukav defines a soul mate as any fellow soul incarnate who has the power and the potential to teach you something through our interaction with one another. The essential question then becomes, how will you relate with those personalities whose paths cross your own?

All too often, we sift people, places, and experiences through the skewed lens of our own egos. Doing so does not lead us to grow. Instead, we remain stuck in our own bubble. But the good news is that we have the power to choose moment by moment how we define our reality. By making new and different choices, we can begin to see the world from someone else’s point of view. As a result, we become more conscious and more present, which is really what life is all about. It’s just that too many of us we have settled for a watered-down version of life—consuming mass quantities of social media and hiding our true selves and our reality from others.

My perspective on so many things has changed as a result of connecting with Loretta. In making a choice to suspend judgement, I got to connect with another human being. And although it was brief, it was pleasant and chose to engage with her as a human being. I got to see Loretta. I got to truly SEE her for who she is in that moment—not her choices, the hospital bracelet, her bag of belongings, nor her twelve-pack, but HER. Another human being with the willingness to ask for help and a desire to connect with a friend. We all have the right to do those things.

These days, the main reason I ever pass that gas station heading to and from my favorite clothing store, Anthropologie. Anthropologie’s client avatar is best described as a creative-minded woman, who wants to look like herself, not the masses. She has a sense of adventure about what she wears, and although fashion is important to her, she is too busy enjoying life to be governed by the latest trends. To her, Anthropologie is a portal of discovery—a brush with what could be. A place for her to lose—and find—herself. (taken from their website) The juxtaposition of this description with a Mobil gas station may seem rather jarring. Passing Mobil en route to Anthropologie, reminds me that had I avoided Loretta, or had I judged her, I’d have missed an opportunity to connect with another human being. What a shame that would have been. Pau Casals wrote,

Each second, we live a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again . . .

And what do we teach our children?

We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France.

When will we also teach them ‘what’ they are?

We should say to each of them:

Do you know what you are?

You are a marvel.

You are unique.

In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you.

Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move.

You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven.

You have the capacity for anything.

Yes, you are a marvel.

And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel?

You must work--we must all work--to make the world worthy of its children.

Loretta is worthy. I just need to do my part, every day, to ensure my little corner of the world is worthy of HER.