Turning Points

I've mentioned it in passing before, but I think certain things have a ring of truth to them. If you don't know what I'm talking about, pretend that you've been doing something your whole life. Let's say that you've never had any kind of a mobile device, and you're having issues with people not being able to get a hold of you with timely information. Now, let's further stipulate that one of your friends tells you about the wonders of a smart phone. Think about the first few moments after this friend has revealed to you that this technology exists. It'd be immediately obvious to you that this technology could solve your problems, but moreover, your entire world view would be changed. It probably wouldn't be a stretch to say that your mind had been blown at that point, and you were suddenly readjusting your conception of what is possible. That's more or less what I think of when I refer to that "moment of truth."

As it turns out, I have already written about a couple of such moments, where I suddenly realized that certain things should be done a certain way. For example, I remember a friend of mine literally showing me how you're supposed to use a fork and knife in polite company. Then there was the time that a different friend physically hugged me into realizing that I'd been giving inadequate hugs for years. In both cases, these moments of realization made me rethink how I'd be doing things up to that point. In fact, if you go back and read those blog posts, I ended them both with something like "I'm glad that happened."

There are actually two more moments like that in my life, both of which were moments of truth from seemingly random interactions. And in hindsight, they are both amusing as heck and have led to further amusement for years and years afterward.

• I have this habit of smiling at people. It's actually caused some minor drama with other women when I took a salsa class a few years back, because apparently it is not that common a trait. This was actually a bit of a learned habit, not something that I have always done since I was a kid. So, what could have prompted me to start greeting people with a smile?
  
  Well, many years ago, I was walking home after going to a lecture. I happened to live up a hill at that point, so I was trudging my way up that hill to get home. I saw a guy on a bike coming down the hill in the other direction fairly quickly, so I glanced in his direction. He was looking down, but when he saw me look up, he made eye contact. Without missing a beat, he flashed me a big, friendly smile. It was a full-on, honest-to-goodness genuine smile from someone who I had never met and likely wouldn't see around again. The part that really made me stop to think about it was that he did it without hesitation. He just smiled at people. Literally a split second later, he zoomed by on his bike, and I never saw the guy again.
  
  It wasn't like the cliche where the smile made my day or anything, but I do remember thinking that he seemed genuinely happy. So it was at that moment that I decided to give it a try. I still don't do full smiles for random strangers, but I do try to give people walking by a quick smile and a "hello" more often than not. Of course, it means interesting interactions at salsa classes, but so far, it seems to have worked out for me.
  
• Even when I have to do something I really dislike, I usually suck it up and force myself to do that task. In fact, that mentality has gotten to the point that I have taken up a Fort Minor song as my unofficial work anthem to remind myself that success is "50% pain." This was largely due to an orange.
  
  You see, I was in high school, and I had an orange in my backpack. I was hungry, but I was remarking to a friend that I wished I didn't have to peel the thing in order to eat it. I was mostly just feeling lazy, but I didn't expect anyone to take me seriously. A split second later, that person offered to peel it for me. Surprised, I asked if he was positive that he wanted to peel an orange for me for no good reason that I could see. He reiterated that he wanted to do this, and showed no signs of hesitation. I was slightly confused, but I extended the orange to him.
  
  Moments later, I had a now-peeled orange in my hands and I was cautiously taking my first bite. He didn't seem to want any, either, so my curiosity got the better of me: I asked him why he'd offered. There was no real benefit for his act, it seemed, so I couldn't understand what was going through his head. His answer was both simple and profound: "I'm good at it. Take pride in the things you do well." The fact that his talent involved peeling oranges didn't make any difference, he still had a talent and he still used it every chance he got.
  
  Of course, some part of my brain must've heard him wrong, since the fact that it was a menial task imprinted "take pride in the things you do" in my ethos instead of "take pride in the things you do well." Still, even though I knew what he said, it was an in-your-face example of doing a small thing well. The fact that he offered to do it for me and that he was happy to show off was more like icing on the cake.

So, there you have it. I have lived a good chunk of my life a certain way thanks to a smile and an orange. I couldn't just try to emulate someone I looked up to like a normal person. No, I chose to derive great meaning from a freaking orange.

That said, I am a little curious where the next moment of truth will come from. So far, these turning points have resulted from a salad, a hug, a smile, and an orange. What next? A vacuum cleaner?