A Nearly-Missed Opportunity

There’s an intentionality about meeting neighbors. It can be a drag, sometimes. Becca and I decided long ago that we need to live, on a daily level, the way we want to be. Annie Dillard said it, in The Writing Life:
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we live our lives.”

In other words, how we approach our moments with our neighbors is how we live our lives. Do we want to be rushed, hurried and on our own? We have to make that choice over and over again.

For example: Yesterday we walked to the library. It was going to be a short trip, because we needed to be back in a half hour. We wanted to do some internet business on a faster-than-dialup connection.

Alas, two hundred yards from the library, we ran into a neighbor, an older man from the Philippines, who told us two years ago to have a baby, because “Baby makes you
Happy!”

It was obvious that he wanted to more than say hello. He talked at us about his grandchildren. Then about his mortgage. Then about something else. I was anxiously thinking of the time slipping away, the time I could be spending uploading a document.

But Becca and I had already had this conversation: this is the kind of people we want to be – accessible to others, not too hurried or important to linger, love, and laugh. We didn’t need to discuss, even as Bert droned on and on: It was more important for us to talk with him than to go accomplish our petty errand.

In hindsight, we didn't miss the chance to upload a high-resolution photo. Rather, we almost missed an opportunity to become the kind of neighbors we want to be. Fortunately, we survived.

It’s hard. Because we didn’t actually get to do what we wanted. We had to turn around and go home. We were a little frustrated, but we knew that neighbors are made, not born. Without planning, precious opportunities to live life will pass us by.