Ordinary Exchanges.

Recently I was in the grocery store picking up a few things when I engaged in a practice that is becoming more and more normal for me. I talked with the cashier. This as not the normal small talk of 'hey how you are you?' or 'its awfully hot today, isn't it?' Rather, I pressed in, and as I have become more accustomed to doing, I said, 'I hope your day is going well."

Then I waited for an honest reply. It took a moment, and it did surprise the person ringing out my purchases, but the reply came.  

When reply came (and it was glorious), I leaned in and smiled and tried as hard as I could with my eyes to listen. To linger and offer not the response that was expected but something far more personal. I didn't offer to fix anything or respond with any expected small talk but I tried to truly be present. The more intentional I am about speaking with strangers in the grocery store or out in the community the more comfortable I am becoming. 

Each time I can see a little more of the light in the conversation. 

Today I was reading an essay that Padraig O'Tauma wrote and it summed up why I feel so strongly about getting past 'small talk' and wishing to converse with people deeply--should they be willing to do so with me. I won't force them to talk. Now please stay with me as I explain how I got there. 

Padraig was commenting on the words of Rita Dove who, while caring for her mother who suffers from dementia, had recently talked with her mom on the phone. It was a hard conversation. A conversation that was filled with prompts and guided by Rita's brother who helped Rita's mother to say all the right things during the 5-minute conversation. After the phone call Rita says, 'I put myself back into a trance.' And I can hear the pain that she was dealing with as her mother struggled for the necessary language for even a phone call to her daughter. 

Returning to Padraig's commentary he writes these words that touched me: 

'To be in a trance is to have your eyes fixed on something there, but not quite there. Ordinary exchanges-- 'weather, gossip, news'--become a small relief, an automatic reflex, a way to fill the void with language that's easy, unmemorable, a simple carrier of connection, affection, and care.'

I do not fault Rita for her need of ordinary language because at times that is all that we have in moments of pain. Lord knows that I have needed those moments and I too have not had the words. I have felt myself slip into one of those 'trances' at times and felt the embrace hit me as well. But how often do we live every single moment--moments without trauma or stress-- in a place where the ordinary conversations are all that we have? 

How often do we stop and look deeply into the places and people that we are with and see the pain they are in a try, in some small way, to be present? 

By lingering with one person we might not change the world, but I know from firsthand experience that listening, dwelling, and taking the time to be with someone, it helps. Sure we can just talk about the weather and any gossip that floats past us. We can stay superficial about social media posts that are trending. . . Or, I wonder if today, God will show you someone who might benefit from pressing in?