THERE IS A STORY IN ALL OF US. THIS IS WHAT WE'RE ALL ABOUT

 

 

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I remember this from long ago........

One day I was at the window just looking out and watching the world and people go by.... feeling relaxed and good with the day. That's when all the chores are done, of course, and Mom's already at the kitchen cooking up something for the evening's meal. Oh yes, she always starts early; never on rush mode whenever preparing for the family's meal. 

Well, I was enjoying the view of lush trees at my neighbor's yard across the street ... quite amused by the lively chirping of birds flitting here and there among the branches ... when a group of people came walking by. Men and women in their middle ages and gauging from the chat going on have just come from a meeting at the chapel three blocks away. There was no missing that as they spoke in voices similar to that of teenagers with their voice boxes turned on 'loud' while chatting!

I sat there quite amused though admittedly mildly irritated too as they blew away my calm and peace. Oh well, another day........

So then my attention was riveted to them now. I saw this woman who was vigorously pressing a point she considered very important with hands flailing in the air as she addressed the group. One guy simply smiled and looked away. Another bearded gentleman argued without waiting for her to finish. The silver-haired woman walking beside her with deep frowns on her forehead shook her head slightly in apparent yet unspoken disagreement. Another woman in wedge shoes (I noticed because it looked too heavy for her thin small feet) listened intently behind the woman speaking. While the short heavy-set woman beside her walked poker-faced, not listening, I could see. Dead-ma. And this gentleman a few steps behind them (on purpose I thought) looked at them with or in utter amusement.

I turned towards Mom and said.... "What's with people?! Can't they at least agree to disagree?"

"Hold it there, young lady." she quipped still not leaving the kitchen as she could very well see the street from where she stood. Obviously she noticed what I was seeing outside the window and I was even sure that she caught the loud voices, too. She never misses anything. Are mothers all like that!?!

"Each one in that group is who he or she is because something or someone put it there. There is always some bias... prejudice... preference... judgement... insight... preconceived notion... expectation... perception... experience, or understanding behind every thought, word, or deed coming out from that person.  Those things and more have influenced or shaped that person and will continue to do so for the rest of his life. Perhaps adding some more, both good and bad, as new opportunities and challenges arise.

There is a story in all of us. This is what we're all about.

The exchange you saw were simply the display of responses by every individual in the group each lifted from their individual and personal memory bank of information gathered from day one of life. They respond according to what they know or to what or how they were programmed from birth.

Two things: 

One is the mechanical response. You turn it on like you do a car.... turn the key, it starts, and it runs. The other is the thoughtful response. You turn on your memory bank, sift through the data, select what is appropriate, and set it to work.

Experience will tell you that a well-thought out response will give you an edge of success over a problem. A thought response will help you evaluate the problem better and might even see the solution contained therein. A thought response gives room for creativity and a better-defined course of action."

"Wow! Mom, who wrote that? I'd like to have that book." I exclaimed wide-eyed and impressed.

"Experience." she smiled with a special glint in her eye as she turned back to her cooking. Oh it's a smile I'm familiar with whenever she scores a point. Bigger points, bigger smiles. I get that from her all the time. But you know what, I'll take that smile anytime-anyday-anywhere..! Happily!!
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Through the years, she was always there for me. Thanks, Mom!
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Love your mothers. Learn well from them