There’s this lady I see all the time who never smiles at me.
She and her dog — and sometimes, her husband — walk up the same road as I do to get to my favorite hiking trail. I’m usually just finishing my morning hike when she’s starting hers, so I’m always walking toward her when I see her.
I saw her two mornings ago, and to borrow one of my favorite “Lou-isms,” she looked like she’d been weaned on a pickle. Her face was all bunched up in a way that made her look bitter. As I always do, I lowered my head slightly and then gave her a sincere smile as I started to move past her. Her reaction to my smile seemed to harden her face even more — which is what I always feel my smiles do…
I’ve also seen this woman and her husband a few times at our Tuesday night Farmer’s Market, and I can’t help but notice how much happier she is in that environment! I’ve even seen her dancing with her husband a few times, and it’s just disorienting to notice how different she is at the market versus on her morning walk!
I know my husband and friends are probably tired of me pointing that woman out to them and telling them the backstory of how I “know” this woman, but I don’t think they truly appreciate how hateful this woman seems whenever I pass by her on my walks. The contrast of the woman they see dancing and having a nice time doesn’t jive with the woman I’m describing to them from my walks.
Last night, I saw the woman again, and she was really having a great time. And honestly, I felt relieved in a way that this woman does appear to be capable of some levity in her life. Perhaps she’s just not a morning person, and when I see her, she’s still foggy and fighting off that crabby-morning-feeling a person can get sometimes.
But I also wonder if it’s personal.
Maybe she just doesn’t like me or the way I smile at her.
As much as that doesn’t sit well with me, it is a possibility.
I’ve been noodling on some other thoughts that perfectly mixed in with my thoughts about “Crabby Patty” (which is what I’ve mentally named this lady, by the way.) A couple of people I’ve met have told me they started reading my blog, and another adorable young woman told me she ordered my novel, and it just arrived yesterday! I always feel so grateful that people are taking time out to read my content, but…what if they end up not liking it?
In order to do my life well, I’ve come to the realization that worrying about whether or not people like me or what I write can’t be something I think about too much. Of course, I always hope my readers like my stuff, but it can’t be the reward I get from sharing my words with others. It can’t be the reason I write, publish, or post my words for public consumption. And, as harsh as this may sound, it’s none of my business if my readers like or dislike my writing — because I gave my words to them unconditionally, so I can’t seek a conditional response as my purpose.
It’s taken me so long to get a place in my heart where the above paragraph lives inside of me as TRUTH. I’ve had those thoughts before, but they were mostly lip-service in my inner narrative! But I’ve turned a corner, and I’m finally in a steady and content space in my being about who I am as a writer and contributor. And that feels really good…
I’m about to put on my hiking clothes for my morning ritual, and because I always see Crabby Patty at around the same time each day, I know I’m getting things started in time for our paths to cross. So if I do see her this morning, I already know I’ll smile at her. I know this because I don’t really know how to walk by a person I see nearly every day without acknowledging their existence with a tiny bit of kindness! But if Crabby Patty rebuffs me like she normally does…
