By the time I followed Tiffany* out of the restaurant the middle toe on my right foot was throbbing. I had no idea what had happened. I only knew that it definitely hadn't hurt when I walked in and sat down at the table. On any other day such an inexplicable injury might have caused me greater contemplation, but on this day--at the end of the last series of days--it didn't seem that unusual.
Tiffany and I first corresponded via email in late February. From then until the Friday before meeting, we hadn't communicated. Friday I received an email that had something to do with her current boyfriend. I didn't know him, but an odd series of incredible, twisting coincidences proved our paths were more intertwined than either of us first suspected. At the realization, we decided we should meet in person.
It was an interesting discussion. In fact, I have had several interesting discussions of all different types with many different individuals lately. Here's what I've learned: People are messy.
Tiffany* sat across from what most would have termed a stranger and shared a few of her biggest fears. Some would criticize her for being so vulnerable so soon. But if you look closer, you see she's just a person doing the hard work of trying to find the answers to her questions.
I have a friend whose divorce after many years of marriage will be final next week. He will tell you that he's "happy" but lost. It might sound like a line until you look closer and realize that he is.
Jake* will tell you all about the job he loves, but that he feels conflicted considering the long hours it demands.
Nikki* will candidly admit that she has unexpected questions about religious beliefs she has held for a lifetime.
Brett* will share with you that he wonders whether he has the strength to continue the grueling fight for more time with his kids.
Sonja* struggles to balance what she wants with the prudence her mind demands.
Messy people indeed. It turns out, however, that I love messy people. They are about the only kind of people worth knowing.
There are individuals and countries content with the status quo; content to sit on their bums each day and let the minutes tick by mindlessly. Messy people want that life until they get it, at which point they realize there's a reason they weren't created as trees.
These people--these wonderful, skeptical, thinking people--are the consequence and the children of freedom. Authoritarian governments do not encourage their minions to ask questions; religious fanatics do not tolerate the curious inquiries of their followers. Our government may not always encourage or like our questions, but it protects our right to ask them. Most of us have been fortunate to grow up taking for granted our right to--as Albert Einstein so eloquently put it--"question everything."
Questions encourage messiness, disorder, at times even chaos, but my belief is that the forefathers understood these moments to be opportunities, necessary catalysts to progress. The first man to ask himself, "What if the boat doesn't fall off the edge of the earth at the horizon?" was the first person to start the world down the path of greater understanding, though he likely appeared to be little more than a suicidal lunatic as he raised his sail for that first journey.
That's why, in the midst of the mess, it's important to be patient with each other; to recognize the difference between those intending malice with their words or actions and those legitimately striving to think and to understand. The latter are the people most likely to take their introspection and move themselves, along with their country, forward. Indeed, they are the only type of people who ever have.
If nothing else, they deserve our respect. They pay a price for their efforts, and we as a society owe them a debt for it. We should give them all the encouragement we can, while also seeking to question and to understand for ourselves.
*names changed for privacy
