It has always fascinated me that everything has a story …
Now what exactly does this mean you ask? Well … where to begin. Whenever I was sad, especially during my high school years, I would venture onto the roof outside my bedroom window. This was my happy place, it was all mine and it was the perfect escape from the world.
I used to lay on this part of the roof and stare up at the sky, looking for airplanes. To me they were tiny birds up in the sky, but to them I was invisible. When it felt like my life was falling apart looking at those airplanes and remembering all the people on those airplanes, and cars driving down the street, and walking past all had stories of their own. Stories filled with trials and tribulations far greater than my own. It was amazing to think that when it felt that my world was shattered, that there were so many worlds going on around me and so many stories that I would never know. It was always peaceful to realize that even when my problems seemed too big to handle, that the Earth kept turning and that everything was going on as normal.
It fascinates me to look at the furniture in my house and think about the people that made it, the people that sold it and so on. I don’t think that we think enough of all the work that goes into what we have. I wish that I knew the stories behind everything that I have, and I wish that I could share the pieces of the stories that I created. The idea that the bed I sleep in each night is composed of the past, present and futures of people far beyond myself is something I find so beautiful. It is amazing that in a a universe so large that so many of us are connected in ways we can’t even imagine, even as vast as the world is it is equally as small and interconnected.
It is beautiful to me that the roads I drive on each day were made by people that had so many stories, memories, and experiences. It is incredible to think that the roads I drive on every day to get home, that feel as familiar to me as my house itself can be so meaningless and unfamiliar to the driver in the car behind me. So often we get caught up in the dramas of our own stories, and forget all the beauty and power of the stories around us.
I think this is why people so deeply fascinate me, something about the complexities and quirks developed through life experience is enchanting to me and always has been. I have never been particularly outgoing but I love to listen to people, I could listen to people talk about their passions. It’s crazy to me that in the same way that one man’s trash can be another man’s treasure, one person’s passion can be another person’s least favorite thing. Watching someone talk about their passions is one of the most beautiful things about conversation. Watching another person light up as they lose themselves in the world of what they love is one of the most fulfilling experiences for me when getting to know someone else.
So, I challenge you to learn someone’s story. Or at least to think about all the stories floating around you as you go out to eat with an old friend, go on a road trip, or sit on your couch to watch every season of your favorite show on Netflix. Stop getting so caught up in your own world, and appreciate how vast the world around you really is, I promise it’ll put everything you’re going through in a little bit of perspective.
