paranoia strikes three

I've been told by a few different sources that most of the time, other people probably don't really pay that much attention to the small details of what I'm doing or how I'm presenting myself. This is by no means a slight, but it simply means I shouldn't really worry about what other people are thinking about what I choose to do or how I choose to react to something. I pay way too much attention to or over-analyze what I think someone else is thinking about me. And if I'm to continue thinking in a positive frame of mind and do what makes me happy, I can't base my decisions on how I expect other people to react to them.

Case in point: It's a small matter, but bringing my own reusable grocery bags to the store shouldn't be a big ordeal. I find myself standing in line, apprehensive about the timing of handing the bags over to the bagger. Do I wait until they look like they're ready to say "Paper or plastic?" Or do I just make them visible so the bagger can see they don't need to ask? And will they think I'm a little cuckoo because I brought my own? Reusable bags are more of a common occurrence at places like Whole Foods or the local co-op, where employees are used to seeing them, but I brought them to Rainbow Foods today and found myself in this fleeting predicament. Of course, like with most situations I over-analyze in the nanoseconds before they occur, it's over and done before I have a chance to feel what I think is relief that the employees don't seem to have formed an opinion about me over my choice to bring my own bags.

It seems illogical to me that I care what other people think of me. Or that I think they're even thinking about me at all. I don't change my decisions because I speculate on the "consequences," but instead I obsess after the fact until I find something else to occupy my thoughts. It's a vicious cycle. I know it's not important, because 90 percent of the time, complete strangers could probably give a hoot why I did what I did. But if I don't think about the impact, I feel like I'm not considering how my actions might affect the people around me. Is there an adjective to describe that?

So I suppose the fact that I followed through and handed my bags over to the bagger, instead of copping out and saying "Paper, please," constitutes a baby step in conquering this neurosis. As I'm learning while training my dog, consistency is key. If you keep at it, you have a bigger chance of accomplishing your goal. So my goal for my next shopping trip is to just politely hand over the bags when the bagger asks, without anticipating the "appropriate" time to do so. Just do it.

tolerance is a withering virtue

I've been taking the bus as part of my commute since October. Prior to that, I drove 1.5 miles to my light rail station, which began to seem a bit ridiculous. And I had never ridden a bus in the Twin Cities until this switch. I ride the 21 on Lake St. between 42nd Ave. and Hiawatha Ave.

That being said, I've become much more observant of the people around me. This began with riding the light rail, which I've been doing for about two years, and now extends to my bus ride. Whereas I used to huddle to myself and try to ignore the goings-on, I now find myself listening and looking around much more.

The 21 bus is host to a variety of people. I used to have a prejudice against bus commuters, assuming that most riders were those who couldn't afford a car or didn't have jobs. Yes, I'm admitting an incorrect assumption here. And yes, I am wrong about this. Consider the fact that I do own a car, but I choose not to drive it the short distance to work. I, in fact, am one of many people in a category of commuters I didn't think existed. But I digress.

My sense of observation brought about a quick flash of reflection this morning. A reflection on myself and how I'm consciously choosing to be more tolerant of those around me. This is a hard thing to do with complete strangers, especially in the short time one is packed onto the bus with new people each day.

I got on the bus this morning, and a middle-aged man was politely saying "Happy New Year" to everyone who got on the bus. He wasn't talking loudly, so it wasn't so much a disturbance. When I got on, the empty window seat was in front of his, so I sat down. He said "Happy New Year" to me, so instinctively, I wished him the same, thinking that would be the end of the conversation. But he continued, and asked me if I had a boyfriend or if I was married, to which I replied, "Yes, I do." At this point, I didn't get agitated, as I would have expected of myself; I remained calm. He continued to say something in the way of my boyfriend being very lucky to have someone so beautiful. I imagine had I been agitated at this point, I would've considered this harassment. But instead, I just said thank you, and took out my book to read. And he went back to wishing everyone a happy new year.

It's hard not to make assumptions about someone else's situation when you find yourself in conversation with a perfect stranger. I don't know this man, and I don't know his situation. But I'm glad I didn't ignore him. I'd have all sorts of irrational what-if situations running through my head, and since I followed through and completed the experience, I don't have to wonder now.