The Greatest Adventure

I was at the Dollar Tree on a Sunday afternoon buying the random assortment of items that can only be found in a teacher’s cart. These items included plastic salad tongs, stickers, cupcake liners, muffin tins, and clothespins. The line inched towards the back of the store, and there was a general grumble of impatience.

The interactions customers had with the cashier were varied. Some people shoved their money at her, obviously in a hurry. Others responded with pleasantries and conversation. Exhaustion crept across the cashier’s face as she rapidly rang up purchases for a few customers who berated her for the length of the line.

When it was the next customer’s turn, she greeted her with the automatic question, “How are you doing?”

The customer smiled and responded with the expected answer of, “I’m doing well, thanks.”

She stopped and returned the smile, telling her that her reply and smile were just what she needed on this chaotic afternoon.

That simple exchange stuck with me for the remainder of the day. For a while, I couldn’t figure out what about that thirty second conversation resonated so strongly with me. However, I soon realized that it circled back to the deep need that people have to be noticed, to feel valued.

How would we interact with people differently if it was our goal each day to attempt to reaffirm the value and dignity of each person we came in contact with?

So much of life is task-oriented. We buzz from place to place, barely resting in-between each to-do list item hastily scribbled on a sticky note. Often, our interactions with people become a means to propel us to the completion of our next task. Busyness is often a substitute for opportunities to connect with those around us, even if it’s just for a minute at a time. We focus on the next great adventure, forgoing the adventure all around us.

In a society that often tells people that they don’t matter, we have a chance to show them otherwise. Opportunities to interact meaningfully with people are constant. However, they also very much exist in the present. When we are so buried in our future tasks/the next great adventure we are seeking, we may lose out on the chance to positively impact someone in ways that we will often never even know about. Opportunities are not monetary, but we frequently exchange those opportunities in the pursuit of time or money.

Creating goals and striving for adventure are valid and worthy activities. I love the idea of reaching goals and seeking adventure as much as anyone (as evidenced by the vast amounts of adventure quotes on my Pinterest boards). However, what if our grandest adventure isn't always climbing a mountain or skydiving but is, instead, made up of the many small moments we are constantly given to fully, wildly, and unequivocally show love and extend grace to other people? What if those are the moments that make up our greatest adventures?