There are the friends that have been with you through thick and thin and you can’t imagine your life without and then there is that one guy you always sat with in a GE history class and never spoke to again. Maybe you grabbed lunch with him after class or studied for the final, but interaction outside class was minimum. These friends don’t get enough credit for the support and dimension they add to everyday life.
You aren’t going to call Rick from history class when you are having an existential crisis at one in the morning but you’ll laugh with him about the dated video your professor has definitely been using for decades and when you split into groups for discussion, you have a go-to guy. He is also a source of small talk. Ah, small talk. I know lots of people who dread it, but it has its purpose. Little questions like “how are you?” or “ did you see what’s for lunch today?” are an important part of the human experience. Not the only important part, but still important. Just as there are a variety of foods people need to be healthy and not just one magic food that gives us everything we need, so there are different kinds of interaction that we need to be fully present as people.
We need to remember the world is more than our own sphere of friends and those temporary friends sit somewhere in between our own world and the world at large. They remind us that every other person sitting in the lecture hall or passing on the street is a person with a story of their own. With a plan for their day and a past we don’t know. These people are unsung heroes that maybe aren’t the ones who change our lives but are a constant reminder that we are alive. We are alive and so are all the other people around us, alive with their own pains and victories, hopes, and schedules.
I am not suggesting any drastic change in lifestyle. I am not saying you should start talking to every stranger you meet and that you must be outgoing to live a good life. I simply encourage you, dear reader, to take a moment and appreciate some of the simpler excellences in your life. Small, unimpressive, mundane interactions are deeply beautiful and we are fortunate to have them. Does that mean they can never be nerve wracking? No, I still hate calling to make a doctor’s appointment but I recognize that small interaction as amazing. So here’s to the cashiers and the lecture buddies and that girl who lives down the hall that always has candy. May we always see the beauty, and perhaps some day learn to take joy, in the fact that we can be with other humans.
