EACH ONE REACH ONE
Repairing the Fabric of Our Society
One link at a time
What do you hope to have accomplished, broadly speaking, by the end of your life?
The thought is ever present backstage, but occasionally emerges from hiding to occupy the spotlight of our mind’s eye. There exists a time-honoured response, one that I have enunciated to myself on many such occasions. I wish to have left the world a better place than it was before I entered it. A lofty goal, noble in its roots but quite often lost in translation and muddied in interpretation.
How might I accomplish it?
My ambition, moulded through several bouts of introspection and dialogue, was to become an educator and researcher. I would paint a big picture, affording a bird’s eye view of a chosen domain. Focus the attention of my pupils on the small details. Finally, train them in using a brush so that we might leave our own mark, filling in gaps and retouching imperfections. In this way, I hoped to enact meaningful change by empowering the next generation of thinkers and doers. Working side by side, we would usher in technological innovations that would reshape our collective experience of reality.
But wait, Rome was not built in a day, and neither would I. Years of professional education and experience would teach me to be more skilled at vaulting, but the bar for significant impact is set high. A tall order, clearing it requires one to have undergone a fair amount of personal growth along the way. A prolonged period of weightlifting was in order, before I became strong enough to uplift those around me.
The route to selflessness is through selfishness — or so I thought.
Until such time, I felt limited in the impact I could have. I therefore hunkered down and worked out, vaporising extraneous fat and carving shapely furrows and grooves. My focus on training, my surroundings turned blurry, as though I’d taken my glasses off beforehand. Rendered short-sighted, everybody but myself faded into a low-resolution backdrop, as I strained and sweated to clear the mists that separated us.
It wasn’t until high school that my eyes were opened to more immediate opportunities for enacting meaningful change. Being quite proficient in academics, I was regularly approached by peers who needed scholastic aid. I was happy to help, as I could hone my own understanding in the process. A doubt cleared here, a concept elucidated there, all in a day’s work. I didn’t think too much of it at first, before a few of them started requesting one-on-one, out of school mentoring.
Seating them in the study of my home, I paced the room in animated fashion. I endeavoured to broaden the scope of their vision and sharpen their eyesight, our focus being the subject at hand. In due course, both of us were more adept at tackling the hardest problems, having plugged the holes in each other’s understanding.
A diorama of my ambition, materialised in unassuming fashion.
Over time, I grew to realise two things, both profound and insightful. Meaningful change doesn’t exclusively occur at the scale of the community, but also at the level of the individual. One does not have to wait to be a champion weightlifter to enact it, for proximity and a shared experience can take the spot on the dais in its place.
Unwittingly, my perception of my own image started to shift and grow clearer, as I arose and departed from the vanity. Outfitting my glasses with new lenses, I began to see myself in a new light, with new faces slowly joining me in the picture.
In my junior year at a new higher secondary school, my friends circle was essentially reset as old connections drifted away. Painstakingly, I created new ones, starting with the most earnest and welcoming individuals and sliding to the left of the spectrum of introversion. Near the very end, there was one person who seemed the most detached, aloof and fastidious in avoiding contact at every turn. Silent and enigmatic, he posed a formidable challenge. Sensing loneliness through the mist that shrouded him from view, I resolved to lift the veil of solitude that had enveloped him in darkness.
All of us wish and deserve to be seen, heard and remembered.
Like the forces of weathering and erosion, I was gentle but persistent. Determined to show him that I was trustworthy, and that I meant well. Slowly and deliberately lowering the drawbridge, he finally invited me into his secure citadel. As he showed me around the place, he pointed to key moments from his past stuck on the walls. One stood out in stark relief, a traumatic experience at his previous school, the impetus for his retreat. A firmly shut door was left in its wake, with a Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the knob.
Now, at last, a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He became more relaxed and easier going, open and conversational. Together, we walked out of the prison he had locked himself in and stared at the horizon in the distance.
Every action merits an equal and opposite reaction. I helped him break out of his shell and admire the landscape outside, and he taught me valuable lessons in patience and impartiality.
At the end of our shared time in school, I handed him my yearbook and asked if he would pen an entry in it, for me to remember him by. He told me he’d be happy to do so and took it home, handing it back a few days later. Reading it, a blinding flash of light illuminated the far reaches of my mind. I would like to quote from it, to share with you the rays that emanated from this new pearl I now beheld.
In my life, I make sure I don’t get influenced by anybody, but your influence gave me the courage to open up to you.
For a person like me who might be considered an introvert or a threat to reality, people wouldn’t consider to talk to me like they do to the others. But you did, you came to me one day and that day I got a new friend.
You are the first friend I found last year who never mocked me, and accepted me as I am.
On life’s journey, we encounter a fair assortment of humanity, maybe a representative sample if we’re lucky — or unlucky, depending on who you ask. Consciously or unconsciously, we choose whom we stop for and spend time getting to know. But every human we touch holds a pearl of ours with them, and we do theirs.
Over time, we fashion for ourselves a string of these pearls, tied at the ends as a chain to sport around the neck. We may choose to flash them in plain sight for the world to see or be more modest and obscure them from public view. But this treasure we accrue is what will manifest itself most brightly when we are in need. And when our time has come, its sequence is what will play out before our eyes.
My yearbook, enriched over the years and spanning the different phases of my life, is the physical manifestation of my collection. As I sit here and read through its entries, I feel nourished, empowered and blessed with good fortune, a feeling I’d like to share.
I am writing so much that even in 25 years, when you read this, you must remember me.
I have a simple philosophy when reaching out to establish contact. I haven’t the foggiest idea of what people may have been through, that led them to become the person they are now. All I can do is listen, comfort and reassure them that their secrets are safe with me. I may not have made the same decisions as they did, but I reserve my judgement, for I am not them.
Nobody has understood me as well as you did.
The reason people feel comfortable in picking up the phone on a regular basis, to voice feelings, validate opinions and ask for advice, is this. They are guaranteed to find a friendly ear on the other end, patient and not in a rush to condemn them.
I also preface any advice I give with this statement. I can only tell you what I would do, not what you should do. I cannot make your choices for you, but I can help set the context and make your perception less coloured by the lens of bias.
Always going to be thankful for you.
The request is its own reward. I am honoured that people trust, respect and value me enough to entrust me with their thoughts, reflections and expressions, and allow themselves to be vulnerable in my presence.
As I read their entries, I picture the lives we led together, the links we created and reinforced. For every life that is touched engenders a chain reaction, reverberating through the links as it is paid forward.
My aim now is to shine as brightly as I can, so that the lustre of my pearl may comfort those seeking the light.
I’ll never forget you.
As I behold the string of pearls I have accumulated along the way, I truly believe this. A single individual is capable of tangible repairs to the fabric of society. By strengthening the weakest links and reinforcing ties, we can forge a renewed vest of chainmail.
One that can bounce back with greater elasticity when subjected to stresses from within and without.
So then, how do I plan on accomplishing my oft-stated goal?
One link at a time.
This story was submitted to a writing contest hosted by Janis Gross, in response to the prompt “How are you making this world a better place?”. Read more here.
