What’s a moment that permanently changed how you see the world?
I saw someone saying this, which was beautiful:
I was 19, working a dead-end job at a massive 24-hour laundromat in a pretty rough part of town. It was around 3:00 AM on a Tuesday, totally empty except for one guy who looked like he’d been wearing the same suit for a week straight.
He wasn’t washing clothes. He was just sitting there, staring at a dryer spinning. I was annoyed because I wanted to close up the back section, so I went over to tell him he couldn't just hang out. Before I could say anything, he looked up and asked, "Do you ever think about how much of the world is happening right now that you’ll never see?"
He told me he had just lost his daughter in a car accident two days prior. He said he couldn't stay in his house because the silence was "too loud," so he came to the laundromat because the sound of the machines reminded him of white noise, and the warmth of the dryers felt like someone else was in the room. He stayed for two hours. We didn't talk much more, but I sat a few chairs away and just... existed with him. Up until that night, I saw every person I passed as an extra in the movie of my life. If someone was slow in line or cut me off in traffic, they were just an obstacle. That guy taught me that every single person walking past you is carrying a weight that would probably break your back if you had to carry it.
Its been a long time, but I still can’t look at a stranger without wondering what "silence" they're running away from. It turned me from a cynical kid into someone who actually tries to be kind, because you never know who is just looking for a little bit of white noise to get through the night.
He wasn’t washing clothes. He was just sitting there, staring at a dryer spinning. I was annoyed because I wanted to close up the back section, so I went over to tell him he couldn't just hang out. Before I could say anything, he looked up and asked, "Do you ever think about how much of the world is happening right now that you’ll never see?"
He told me he had just lost his daughter in a car accident two days prior. He said he couldn't stay in his house because the silence was "too loud," so he came to the laundromat because the sound of the machines reminded him of white noise, and the warmth of the dryers felt like someone else was in the room. He stayed for two hours. We didn't talk much more, but I sat a few chairs away and just... existed with him. Up until that night, I saw every person I passed as an extra in the movie of my life. If someone was slow in line or cut me off in traffic, they were just an obstacle. That guy taught me that every single person walking past you is carrying a weight that would probably break your back if you had to carry it.
Its been a long time, but I still can’t look at a stranger without wondering what "silence" they're running away from. It turned me from a cynical kid into someone who actually tries to be kind, because you never know who is just looking for a little bit of white noise to get through the night.
36-40, M
