The person who taught me the beginnings of this philosophy was a carpenter known in our home town as Jimmy the Greek. "Smile," he said. As a new waitress with a summer job, I didn't appreciate his comment -- thought he was taking undue advantage of his position. In those bygone days, the customer was always right.
Jimmy always smiled and I took myself too seriously. I resented criticism, which was how I interpreted his first request to smile. Fortunately, I couldn't stay mad at him. As a regular, he always had a cheerful comment. Soon he'd invite me to "flip him for coffee." He always tossed, and I often paid from the tips in my apron pocket. Someone said he had a two-headed quarter. But I didn't mind. Jimmy was fun.
Reading a headline in the paper the other day, I was reminded of those long-ago summer I spend as a waitress in Gim Wong's cafe.
"Stop telling me to smile at the gym," screamed the headline. Like the younger version of me, the author had a negative reaction when the woman trainer instructed her to smile.
This interaction illustrates an important life lesson. It's not what happens that matters most. Our interpretation of what has occurred and our stories about what was intended are the things that give us grief.
If being asked to smile triggers a negative reaction, maybe we should wonder why. After all, it's just possible we're being reminded to enjoy the moment. It's hard to argue with such sage advice.
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ReplyDeleteThanks ffor a great read
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