Intersecting others’ paths
It’s uncomfortable for me to accept that there are some people in my life I’ll never see again.
Take, for instance, my former personal trainer Cody. Cody was a chiller — he helped me get in the groove of exercise, and we shared bits and pieces of our distinct lives. Cody left the gym where I was training to go back to school, and I imagine he’s still somewhere local. But I’ll never run into him again: I won’t exercise with him, and I won’t hang out with him.
Another great example are Uber drivers. Because there are so many Uber drivers in the city, and they come from all over the Bay Area, the chance of getting the same driver twice is low. Even though I use Uber a lot, I’ve only ever gotten a driver I’ve had before on two occasions: one drove a Toyota RAV4 and wore gloves, another drove a Civic with natural gas stickers on the outside. For a brief moment, especially if you converse with your driver, you share experiences and parts of your life story. And then you both go on your separate ways.
Friends from back in Texas — high school or earlier — are not friends I often see. By sheer geography, it’s difficult to keep in touch. There are some folks with whom I shared classes for years, but I’ll never contact again. That’s weird to me. Friends or classmates don’t seem inherently ephemeral.
I find this ephemerality particularly difficult with relationships. Because the intersection point is usually longer than, say, a couple dates, I feel like I’ve made an investment in another person in sharing my experiences. To have to give that up is a loss that I’m not usually happy to take. Chalk it up to loss aversion.
Everyone lives a separate life, but we intersect others’ paths daily. Sometimes, we intersect for an extended period of time. Other times, we intersect briefly. So I guess you just have to keep living in the moment and enjoy what’s in front of you today, because your life and the people around you could be completely different tomorrow.
