This past summer I was in Florida on a vacation with my family. Whilst being there we spent loads of time in the pool. In the pool, sometimes we would hit around a ball to one another. Occasionally, someone would miss the ball. After a couple of times, I started joking about them not “being there”. Each time someone would miss the ball I’d say, “Round number 234 (some random number each time) of ‘Where Were You?’.”
Tonight my family has been making plans for Christmas, my birthday, Grandkids, etc. When we would finish a topic, we would realize that my Dad had not really been listening…I don’t know what he was doing, but he obviously “wasn’t there”. So, I began my little game again.
As I sit here, later on, I am pondering these moments. This game was made as a way to joke about a moment of small failure, or more so, a moment of obliviousness. Is obliviousness good or bad? I tend to think of things as black and white, obliviousness being one of those things.
My Sister and Dad are people that I would consider oblivious, my Mother and I are not oblivious people. When you aren’t oblivious you REALLY notice obliviousness; it’s like a huge, neon sign pointing at someone. This is the case for me, at least. Truthfully, it gets tiring to be the “noticer”. Sometimes you just want to shout out, “Look around you for a moment!”
Here’s the thing, though: I think that oblivious people notice things in their own unique way. I think that maybe when the “zone out” that they might not just turn into a zombie, maybe they are actually taking time to analyze a situation and trying to find a new detail that they might not have noticed in the moment. My Sister is oblivious, and yet she has stellar memory and tends to think of different situations after they have happened.
Now, sometimes people might actually zone out, and that’s fine. But when they tune out with intention, I think that could be a true game-changer. Maybe the world needs people who take the time to rethink over past situations. I find that oblivious people actually care deeply for people and things…imagine that?! 🙂 They take the time to carefully think of responses to good and bad things. They STOP to TNINK so they can ACT.
This is a gift. Obliviousness can be a gift! 🙂 Maybe all of you already thought this, but this was a very new thought to me tonight.
The game “Where Were You?” was made as a joke against obliviousness. this game will still continue I’m sure (all in good fun) but in “real life” maybe I want people to start asking me, “Where Were You?” This would mean that I actually took the time to care instead of making snap judgments.
My family and I visited my great grandpa’s farm this past week. My great grandpa is 97 years old and had many stories to tell. My family and I enjoyed hearing about his 500 pigs, my great grandma’s shocking experience (literally, shocking:) ), and his many times of helping the Amish community around them and getting the midwife for them. My mom enjoyed looking at the farm and around the house. She was able to recall many fond childhood memories.
You’ve been there for me for what seems like forever… almost like it has been since the day I was born. 🙂 We’ve been through a lot of chapters of life together and through it all you’ve been the best person I know. Wanna know why? I’ll tell ya. 🙂 You are kind, you’ve tried to understand and care for me all of my life. You are trustworthy, I don’t trust anyone more than you… I couldn’t even picture that. You are compassionate, you always give me the benefit of the doubt. You are vulnerable, a trait that the world will tell you and I that is bad but in actuality it is a fine art that has been lost (we’re bringing it back into style) :). You have a good sense of humor and can laugh at yourself, something that you have always taught me. You are a good listener who always has a follow up question. You make me feel noticed and needed, something that you struggled with all your life that you have turned into your specialty. You are much more but, this blog does say pictures with a side of words. 😉
Happy Birthday, Mom.