Mr. Rogers said it best. “There isn’t anyone you couldn’t learn to love once you’ve heard their story.”
The other day I had a song running on a loop in my head. I’m sure you’ve been there. No matter what you do it seems you can’t shake it. The scientific term for it is, earworms. Try not to think about it and the song will only get louder. For me, it was “The Policy of Truth” from Depeche Mode – a song I haven’t heard in years.
I looked over at a young co-worker and I thought, “I guarantee you Andrea over there has never had Depeche Mode stuck in her head.” Before she was even born, I was spinning it on vinyl at Coconuts Beach Club in Bay City, Michigan.
Then something else occurred to me. Very little of what goes on in my head goes on in her or anyone else’s head for that matter. I have memories, experiences and interests 100 percent unique to me. And so do they. Throw in the fact that people can’t even agree on pizza, and it’s a miracle we can even be in the same room with one another.
I’ve noticed something. People who constantly have drama with other people aren’t curious. They’re me-centric and they’re in constant conflict. They can’t seem to go a full day without somebody pissing them off. Oh, they have stories. But they’re always about how this person did this and that person said that.
Boring.
I have a suggestion. Ask people about the things running on a loop in their heads. In a single day at work, I met a guy who’s never been inside a movie theater. I talked to a girl whose dad was in Fleetwood Mac. David is excited over his son’s new job. Sara is happy her mom is coming to help with her new baby. And I listened as a woman told me she was sexually abused by a cousin. These are the things that matter, not the guy who took forever to make your sub at Jimmy John’s or the girl at work who you don’t like but have never really talked to.
Look OUTWARD.
Be curious.
Ask people about their loops.
There’s no one you can’t learn to love when you do.
That’s my policy. And that’s the truth.
[subscribe2]
