A big hole and a bunch of good people

Two weeks ago I spent the weekend camping at the Grand Canyon with some really great people.

Look At Me Looking At You

Lately I’ve been noticing a particular Loma phenomenon. You know, one of those things that are typical of campus life, and yet strange and unexplainable and sometimes awkward. There are lots Loma phenomena, but I’m talking about just one. What I’ve been observing is that most people whom I don’t know personally seem very intent on not making eye contact. I’ve noticed this since freshmen year, but it’s only lately that I’ve really begun to think about it.

While walking around campus, you inevitably cross paths with people. I guess it’s just one of the laws of society that there are other people. And for some reason, there are some people on campus who seem to be set on not looking at you when you pass by. There are a few ways they accomplish such a noble feat. One of the more extreme methods is the Phone Check. This is when, just as you are approaching someone headed the other direction, they conveniently get a text from a dear friend. Of course, many people really do get texts when you’re walking by them, but sometimes, just sometimes, I think it’s a sham.

Another method, and probably the most common, is the Ground Stare. The Ground Stare, though probably self-explanatory, is when a person walking by fixes his eyes intently on the ground, as though he sees White Jesus’ face right there in the asphalt, or as if he’s reading some unknown work of Plato encoded in the concrete beneath his feet. Now, if I saw White Jesus’ face on the ground I probably wouldn’t look up either, so I can’t really blame them. But most of the time I don’t think there’s really anything interesting on the ground, I think they’re just more comfortable looking there than in the eyes of the person passing by.

I may sound bitter about Phone Checking and Ground Staring, but I’m not; it actually adds a bit of humor to most of my days. In many ways these things are sad, very sad, and not that funny, but I’ll tell you what is funny. It’s funny to look at them. You see, in light of all this, I’ve started this little personal project. My task is to look in the eyes of everyone I pass. Sometimes I fail, but most of the time I do it. A lot of people are sweet, and when you look at them, they look at you, and you both smile as if you’re both from planet Pandora and you’re telepathically saying, “I see you.”

But then there are other people, the ones who don’t look. I’ll continually glance at these people while I pass them, and somehow, as though their eyes are the golden snitch I just can’t seem to catch, they never meet my gaze. And as I pass they seem uncomfortable and stiff. There’s one person in particular that I know for doing this. I know him personally now, but before I did, he would never look me in the eyes. His was, I think, the most extreme case of Ground Staring I have encountered. Not only would he look at the ground, but he would also cock his head to the side, as if he was uncomfortable even looking at your feet. As puzzling as this was, I thought it was kind of hilarious.

When I was younger I always saw myself as being a terrific introvert. I thought I was pretty anti-social; and honestly, I kind of was, and things have changed a little bit. However, what I’ve recently come to realize is that, compared to most people, I really wasn’t as introverted as I believed. I was only introverted relative to my class-clown, extroverted high school friends. Now I realize that few people are very outgoing. Most people don’t ever want to talk to someone new, someone different. Most people don’t want to meet a stranger’s gaze in passing.

Now, I’m not exactly a baby-kissing hand-shaker, but I think we all, on some deep level, need to be acknowledged. We need to be recognized as a fellow human. So, maybe next time we pass each other, look at me, and I’ll look at you, and just for a second or two, we’ll see each other, and I’ll smile, and you’ll smile, and we’ll both feel human and alive and worth something. Unless you see White Jesus’ face on the ground, then, by all means, keep staring; just let me know what he says.

Live a Good Story

I recently read the book A Million Miles In a Thousand Years, by Donald Miller. The driving force, the thread stitched through the narrative that holds the whole thing together is the idea that life is like story. There are meaningful stories, and there are meaningless stories. There are adventurous stories, and there are dull stories.

Life is like story.

The factors that make a story good, a goal, an inciting incident, a conflict, hellish pain, relational characters, overcoming conflict and hellish pain, character transformation, etcetera, are the same factors that make a life good. Story is when a character wants something and overcomes conflict to get it. If we apply the concepts of story to our lives, it’s hard to make the same decisions we used to. It’s hard to choose the couch over the trail. It’s hard to choose the mundane mediocrity over the adventure, over the “whimsy.” It’s hard to want to live a dull story.

Life is like story.

Live a good story.