Everyone has a story to tell
We should all remember that
By Jim LaJoie
Every life has a story. In most, if you live long enough, the story contains elements of drama, comedy, romance and (inevitably) tragedy. Life is a journey, an adventure, a winding, uneven path made up of millions of moments that have led you to the present. Your personal journey is unique to you, but it has intersected with many who have experienced their own.
I think of this at times as I cross paths with others in the daily routines that make up my life. It may occur to me while pumping gas and looking up and seeing someone doing the same a few feet away, or passing someone on the street, or seeing a fellow driver pull up alongside of me. I would like to tell you that I am always aware my daily life intersects with my fellow earthly travelers, but, usually, I am not. Typically, people pass through my life routinely, without any conscious thought on my part that these are valuable human lives, with stories of their own. They are just part of the landscape of my life, bit players making cameo appearances in my life story. I suspect most of us live this way.
On a random day recently, my journey intersected with the following people on their own journeys, as we shared a brief passing moment where our lives intersected, even if just fleetingly:
An older couple, looking to be somewhere in their 70s, walking hand-in-hand, appearing very content on this pleasantly mild winter day. I wondered what they had experienced in life. They had obviously met and married, but what was that story? Did they have children, grandchildren? What were their professions? What good things happened to them over the years? What not-so-good things? How did life’s journey get them to this point on this day where they looked so content?
A young man, probably around 20, stacking cans in one aisle of the grocery store I shopped at. He had an earnest demeanor, not really dour, but more focused on the job at hand. Was he still in school and, if so, what were his career aspirations? Did he have a romantic partner? Was he close to his family?
A middle-aged woman, walking a chocolate Labrador retriever. She seemed lost in her thoughts and somewhat sad, not paying attention to the lab as it bounded ahead on its retractable leash. Was she having a problem at work, with a relationship, her health?
A young couple, likely in their early- to mid-thirties, walking just behind a young girl on a small bicycle with training wheels. The child’s helmet only partially restrained her long, brown curly head of hair, as she happily pedaled her way down the sidewalk, the parents watching closely, looking pleased that the child was experiencing this moment of joy. This couple had a story, closer to the beginning than the end, hopefully. The child’s story had barely begun but stretched ahead of her.
These are people with lives of their own, not just extras in mine.
These were just a tiny fraction of the people whose lives intersected with mine that day, not even a particularly busy or eventful one. On any given day, I am sure there are dozens, maybe hundreds of people I interact with, pass by, drive alongside of, without giving them even a moment’s notice. Every one of them has a personal journey where I am the one that passes unnoticed through a moment in their lives.
I am often –and, in a moment of honesty, usually - solely focused on what I need to do on a particular day, wrapped up in my journey, that others pass me by without even a second of notice, small uncredited extras in the saga that is my life. It would be better, I will admit, to consistently see others as not just my life’s passersby, but individuals with stories of their own, also with experiences that have made them laugh and cry, that have brought them joy, sadness, wonder. These are people with lives of their own, not just extras in mine. They have also lived a life that is still playing out. We are one, in that way. That is worth remembering.
About the author: As part of his journey, Jim LaJoie relocated to North Carolina more than a decade ago, having been a native of Massachusetts until then.