Talk to strangers

 Last week during a walk and talk, my friend Steve, in discussing his advancement to the last stage of martial arts training well beyond black belt, told me how his sensei had referred him to reading philosophy before he was ready to begin this final advancement.  While telling me this story, he used the term "other", and I asked him to clarify what that word meant to him, and I suppose this was my form of pushing back against labeling those we don't yet know or understand as different or "other" than we are.  Steve's answer didn't disappoint me and was further confirmation of why I consider him a friend even though last week was only our second meeting.

The "other" can be a dangerous sentiment.  It fosters isolation from others and distrust, and human beings have a history of all sorts of disturbing mayhem when those forces are at play.  I suppose from an evolutionary standpoint, there was an advantage, during times of scarce resources, to look out only for one's own tribe to the exclusion of the other, because that was the best chance of a particular gene pool having the chance to continue after that of the altruistic good-Samaritans has died out.  Evolution can have it's not so pretty sides.

So, we are the descendants of the winners who took all and didn't leave enough for the "others" left behind, so a degree of that outlook is still hard wired into our makeup.  I don't want to say that is right or that is wrong.  It just is, and I believe it is at our peril that we don't acknowledge it  And the thing about knowledge and self awareness, sometimes it can help us make a helpfully more rational decision when the situation suits.  We needn't still act entirely like cavemen, even if on an evolutionary scale, we were just that a mere blink of a heavy brow eyelid ago.

As a child I, like most others, was taught not to speak to strangers.  I know, some awful things happen to some kids at the hands of some awful people, and there is no good way to just accept that as the way things are.  But, if we consider this from a risk/reward stand point, how often does it happen (too often, yes, I agree), and does instilling fear of the "other" in children actually have a significant impact on this number?  Certainly, I DON'T KNOW, but I do ask if the reward of maybe protecting one or two kids who might still fall prey by some other method is worth the risk of creating generation after generation who are trained to react and interact with people they don't yet know as THE OTHER.  What cost fear?

I have an answer to that.  When I was hit by a car last year, the person driving that car left the scene of the accident.  I don't want to believe that driver was simply an awful person.  He or she hit me hard, probably in the speed range of 50mph, and for as good a job as my body did hitting the ground to avoid even further damage, I'd say the probability is I was was knocked out, so this person driving the car, knowing she or he just hit me really hard, saw a body devoid of movement, possibly dead.  That would scare just about any not awful person, and fear can make for some unsympathetic reactions.  The driver left.  Happily, I was wasn't bleeding at a rate that wouldn't clot, so I am still alive, but not for a moment am I unaware that someone's feel of our legal system could have led to my death.

Yes, that's a biggie, but fear isn't just an on/off switch.  It's a progression, so the sadness I feel when our society doesn't trust the "other" isn't just a quaint longing for simpler times.  I believe fear of the unknown and unknowns, of vulnerability can have real and true negative consequences, so yesterday, when it rained, and I ran instead of rode, and I came up upon two hikes, I cheered, "Yay, two other people out in the rain!"  Yes, I take an odd pleasure in being verbosely weird and the vulnerability that creates for me, but it worked.  I received a hearty return hello, they quizzled me about being able to run on slippery wet rocks, and I happily just replied, "By sliding a lot!"  It was a simple interaction of less than 10 seconds, but in those brief moments, we all became something other than "other" and instead, fellow trail users.

I believe some people who ride bikes enthusiastically could learn a valuable lesson or two from people who travel by feet, bipedal, if you prefer. (And yes, I suppose I do prefer. See two post prior about bad-sense-of-humor.)  Most often, when riding a bike, I don't match the image of what many cycling enthusiast consider a professional rider, even a mostly retired one.  I like not spiffy bikes and street clothes, so now and again, and maybe again again, I'll be snubbed by racier looking people on bikes.  There have been a few exceptions (notably only one male) who followed the logic that: if that guy is showing up on this ride looking like that, he MUST know what he's doing!  I'd like to think they all had their suspicion adequately verified.

So as I often do, I'll finish by suggesting you go ride a bike.  It's fun.  But this time, when you see another person on a bike, any bike, smile.  Wave to him or her.  Say, "Hi!"  We're all on bikes, so we might as well all be "other" together.

My "other" bike made for a LLLLOOOONNNNGGGG ride home today!