The Stories We Walk Past

Sometimes an ordinary moment stays with us long after the day is over.

Someone holds a door for a person who is still several steps away. A familiar face is missing from a familiar place. We overhear a few words in a grocery store and find ourselves thinking about them on the drive home.

There may be very little to tell. Yet something about the moment asks us to pay attention.

I think this is part of what draws me to writing. I’m curious about the lives unfolding around us, especially the parts we rarely get to see. What did it take for that person to get up this morning? What are they hoping for? What might we understand if we knew a little more of their story?

We pass one another carrying so much that remains unspoken. Grief. Relief. Financial worry. A small piece of good news we wish someone would ask about. The effort of beginning again.

And sometimes, through a brief encounter, a little of that becomes visible.

With the publication of Modern Parables, I’ve been thinking about how stories give us room to consider our own lives. We can follow someone else for a few pages and discover that we recognize the hesitation, the longing, or the choice before them. We may even understand something about ourselves that we had struggled to put into words.

That is one of the pleasures of being a reader and one of my deepest hopes as a writer.

For the next few days, I want to pay closer attention to the moments I might otherwise hurry through. Perhaps I’ll listen a little longer. Ask a question instead of making an assumption. Notice someone whose presence I’ve begun to take for granted.

There are stories all around us.

I wonder how many are waiting for us to slow down enough to hear them.

Samuel Rice