"SO, HOW ARE YOU?"

       I have a class that meets once a week, in the evenings. It's a discussion-based class about American Indians, taught by a professor whose hip-length, silvery grey hair, I seriously covet. One class session, we read a narrative written by a Navajo man. Said narrative argued that when Caucasian people say "How are you?",  they don't genuinely want to know. They say it out of habit, societal expectation, and mannerly etiquette. But they don't really want to know the answer. This resonated deeply with me, my soul nodding in agreement. Although I don't believe this practice is limited purely to White people, I do see it taking an active role in society. Think about it... how often does someone seem sincere in wanting to know how we are doing? How often does their voice actually spark with bubbling interest when posing the question? How often do their eyes actually meet yours in loyal devotion? How often do they actually allow their souls to emanate with openness, ready to receive whatever news you offer? Very rarely. In my experience, almost never. It's not really their fault though, because as the Navajo man argued, they've been groomed since day one to use this inquiry as a mere form of etiquette, not a genuine bonding tool. And it's not as if you're exempt from blame either, seeing as you rarely deviate from the scripted reply of "Oh, I'm good!" The only variations being perhaps a "I'm doing well!" or "I'm fine!" And so the monotony continues: them blandly asking, and you boringly replying.

     WHAT A WASTE!!! What a waste of time and energy! It's selling ourselves short, really. We sell ourselves short when we participate in either role, because really, we play both parts. Sometimes we are the listener, and other times the asker. And whatever role we're currently performing, we can have the power as dynamic humans, to fulfill it in a much more meaningful way. We're living, breathing, growing, learning, changing people. Yet, we can't seem to get past the tired parameters of this conversation role play. I reiterate: it's not out of maliciousness that we perform this way, it's just habit. We mean well, but we can do better. How much different would our world be, if we genuinely asked and genuinely answered? If we asked with empathy, respect, and genuine interest. And if we answered with thoughtfulness, trust, and genuine honesty. I'm willing to assert that our relationships would be exponentially more meaningful. (Okay math friends, probably don't run a stat progression on that statement, because I know that "exponentially"is a bold term to use in the math world...)

     

But really! What if instead of the conversation looking like this: 

ASKER: "Oh hi, how are you?"

ANSWERER: "I'm doing well! And you?"

ASKER: "Oh same, I'm good. Same old, same old." 

It looked like this: 

ASKER: "How are you doing lately?"

ANSWERER: "I'm alright. Feeling a little bit stressed with school though. It's hard." 

ASKER: "Oh wow, I bet. College is hard! I'm here though for anything you need! I take a yoga class on Thursday evenings, and it's great for decompressing from life's stresses. Would you like to come with me this week?"

ANSWERER: "Oh, I'd love to! Thank you so much!" 

     Alright, YES, that was a very cheesy example, I'll admit. But you get the idea! Don't you see how we sell ourselves short when we choose to perform either role with tired routine as opposed to active engagement? When we make the leap to choose the latter, we form bonds that, in my romantic outlook, are what life is really all about. Now, I'm not saying that when your over-eager classmate from Math 1090 asks about how you're doing, you have to pour your heart and soul out to her, but I am saying, that you can still choose to reply in a way that is actively engaged. Even if you're not comfortable with opening up to the person asking, you can say "I'm just working through some tough things right now." Or " Life is stressful, but I'm doing my best." So: take my advice, or don't. Life will go on, regardless of whether people break their blah conversation habits or not. But: having said that, wouldn't it be so much more interesting if they did break those habits? We each have a divine spark within us, and thus we each have unique, intelligent, beautiful things to share with each other. To share a quote that I wholly love: "We're all just walking each other home."Aren't we though? I won't get deep into religion, but I will say that I believe there was an existence before our time here on Earth. And I believe that when all is said and done, we will return to that existence. So why not walk each other home in an interesting way-- extending empathetic interest with each syllable we utter. 

     And so, to answer the question I got asked about 10 times today, I am doing alright. Right now, I'm sort of struggling with religion. It's a grey, confusing area, and one that I constantly think I figure out, only to realize that it will never be something that fits easily into the black and white filing system of my mind. Right now, I'm sort of struggling with being the youngest child in my family. It's painful to be far away from the siblings you grew up next to. It's painful to be the only unmarried one among gushing, happy couples. It's painful to try and carve my own way among the legends who preceded me. Right now, I'm sort of struggling with allowing myself to make mistakes. I want my life to be scheduled, and perfect, and consistent. But it never is. And for an obsessive person like me, that's hard. But today was beautiful, and beauty goes a long way. I woke up to rain pebbling against my rooftop. With tufty grey skies outside the windows, I enjoyed a lavish yoga practice, and a warm cup of frothed milk afterward.  I watched the Keira Knightly "Pride & Prejudice" and cheered as Elizabeth and Darcy walked toward each other in the dusty purple meadow-- their love overcoming all odds. Oh how I love happy endings. After my fill of Jane Austen, I drove downtown, visiting my favorite shops that glisten with eclectic odds and ends, and smell of patchouli and sandalwood. I apartment hunted for a bit, laughing as I saw a man dressed in a hazmat suit exit one of my potential listings. Maaaaaaybe not that one after all. And then, to top it all of, I lazily typed this post at my favorite library, while watching two men get in a fist fight over who had rights to the quiet room. Comedy at its finest. And all of this, while the rain kept falling. 

So, there you see, my answer to the question. May I have the bravery to always ask the quizzical question with sincere intent, and the bravery to answer it with the same intent. May we all.