单独

I’ve learned, through a series of scientific experiments, that bosses prefer for you to get to work on time.  They don’t usually like it if you show up around 8:30; they want to see your butt in the chair at 8:29.

I don’t want to talk about it.

Anyway, Tuesday morning I was on track to be in the office on time when I rounded the corner in view of Lake Michigan and a gust of wind tried to knock me over.  There was a tiny little lady standing at the top of the driveway to the apartment building next to our office, and she waved me towards her.  I walked up and asked if she needed help.  She wordlessly reached out for my hand and grabbed it tightly.  I supported her as she walked down the driveway and expected her to release me; instead, she motioned for me to turn left and she shuffled forward, occasionally pointing where she wanted me to go, keeping a wiry grasp on my hand the whole time.  She spoke a little English so I got to know some of her background as I walked her to Metropolis Coffee where she let me go, pointed at the door, and said, “I go here.”  We had spent fifteen minutes walking to the coffee shop and I was very late for work, but I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it.  Instead of being frustrated, my heart was warmed by the demands she made of me.  That is the second time in a month an old lady has stopped me and asked for my help walking, and as I walked back towards work I thought about what I would have done had I been her.  I almost certainly wouldn’t have asked a stranger for help.  Or even a friend.

I’m so proud.  I would have tried to make it on my own, even though the wind would have probably introduced my face to the sidewalk.  Just two weeks ago I carried a 50lb air-conditioning unit across town by myself, even refusing help when a stranger stopped and offered it.  My back hurt for a week afterwards, but I couldn’t allow myself to ask someone for assistance.  When I do, I feel as though I shouldn’t.  I think I must do everything on my own.

Is that really the healthiest society?  One in which each person is capable of achieving only what they can achieve alone?  Weren’t we meant to give and receive help?  It may just be my personality, but I’m never happier than when I’m helping a friend.  So why do I feel as though I’m a burden when I ask for help myself?  What is this disease that makes us think we are islands, though we are surrounded by land?

“Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.

At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.”
―Vera Nazarian