Hey You
Yesterday I was on Googletalk and so was my brother. I chatted him and said, "Hey you." I said it because his name is precious to me, and, absurd or not, at that moment it seemed so irreverent to use it. I also said it because I like that I can say to him just "hey you," and thereby say so much more. And I said it because I still find it strange, and beautiful, that I can address flippantly one of the the few people that my heart would readily address as Great.
Today on the sidewalk to the cafeteria I passed a girl who used to live on my dorm floor last year. I smiled at her and said, "Hey you." I said it because I couldn't remember her name, although I remembered her. I also said it because I wanted to say something to her that was more personal than "hi." And I said it to shake the shame of knowing so little about her when everything about her says she wishes someone would think she was worth knowing.
The rest of the afternoon I lived in the contextual, personal, and internal clash of the "hey yous."
Some people believe in a cosmic justice that can be balanced with normoequivalencies of good and bad deeds. You skipped your coffee and were a little rude to the cleaning lady, so when you see the guy with the hillbilly hair who's either a hippie or homeless outside Mickey D's, you buy him lunch, press it into his hands with a "good luck dude", and walk away before he has a chance to thank you - or ask you who the goodness you think he is. Somehow, someday, it's gonna pay off. Other people spend a lot of their time bribing their consciences. From time to time, when the compulsion strikes, they donate significant - but not painful - portions of their income or time to charities, community service, or humanitarian projects. They don't necessarily think it's going to get them anywhere eternal, but at least their happy moments on earth won't feel so undeserved.
I don't believe in either. I guess in the end I believe all people were created to live. I believe actually living means acting in a way that aligns with truth. And I believe calling other people to life means treating them in a way that aligns with the truth about them - that they were created to live, just as much as any other person was.
So how do I get the Me out of the "Hey You"?
Today on the sidewalk to the cafeteria I passed a girl who used to live on my dorm floor last year. I smiled at her and said, "Hey you." I said it because I couldn't remember her name, although I remembered her. I also said it because I wanted to say something to her that was more personal than "hi." And I said it to shake the shame of knowing so little about her when everything about her says she wishes someone would think she was worth knowing.
The rest of the afternoon I lived in the contextual, personal, and internal clash of the "hey yous."
Some people believe in a cosmic justice that can be balanced with normoequivalencies of good and bad deeds. You skipped your coffee and were a little rude to the cleaning lady, so when you see the guy with the hillbilly hair who's either a hippie or homeless outside Mickey D's, you buy him lunch, press it into his hands with a "good luck dude", and walk away before he has a chance to thank you - or ask you who the goodness you think he is. Somehow, someday, it's gonna pay off. Other people spend a lot of their time bribing their consciences. From time to time, when the compulsion strikes, they donate significant - but not painful - portions of their income or time to charities, community service, or humanitarian projects. They don't necessarily think it's going to get them anywhere eternal, but at least their happy moments on earth won't feel so undeserved.
I don't believe in either. I guess in the end I believe all people were created to live. I believe actually living means acting in a way that aligns with truth. And I believe calling other people to life means treating them in a way that aligns with the truth about them - that they were created to live, just as much as any other person was.
So how do I get the Me out of the "Hey You"?
Comments
Post a Comment