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There are two kinds of people: Part Two - The non-movers

Coffee cup in one hand, veggie/fruit smoothie in the other. No seriously, that's what I have on each side of me as I write. I'm smiling because of how funny this is, as it seems to also relate to this conundrum of a topic before us.

There are two kinds of people, and there are definitely two kinds of beverages.

 My caffeinated beverage on my left brings me a one sided joy that I cannot even begin to detail. I love my coffee. And I really do think it loves me back. At least for a while. As I peer out of the corner of my eye to the right, I see the greenish grainy drink to my right. Today the fennel seeds in it do not make it seem as dirty  I mean, like I just gathered them from the dirt without rinsing and sprinkled them in there kind of dirty. Maybe it was the splash of OJ I decided to add to it this morning. Now, I know that this drink loves me. It is good for many aspects of my life. Health, energy, sustenance, power. But I do not enjoy it as much.

When I make my coffee in the morning, and I hear that percolating masterpiece of a symphony begin, I quite literally begin to feel relaxed. My shoulders drop, my heart rate calms, I close my eyes and inhale the aroma that's wrapping around me. It says, "Megan, I love you, I will make you feel warm and alive again." And again and again, Every day my coffee pulls through for me. I love my coffee.

But you know the 21st century drill. Sound the alarm, sound the alarm! Coffee's bad for you. And now it's next week, and coffee is good for you again. And then a study and a latte later, it's bad for you again.

Then there's the smoothie. As I prepare that, I stare at the contents I have layered in to my ninja bullet thingy. What color will it turn out today? I can handle the bright green or red or pink, but when it turns out brown - well, that's where I draw the line. I know as I drink it, it is good for me. (unless I don't use all organic, and I mean the real organic, not the organic from China kind of organic or so I am told did you read that whole foods revelation recently?) And even if it is not all organic and not as nutrient filled as it could be because of that, I know deep down it is attempting to make me better, healthier.

And so.

There are two kinds of people.  Just like there are two kinds of beverages. And there are different categories of what they are, who they are, that breaks them down. Just like the perfect veggie smoothie isn't always perfect, and the coffee if done right and in moderation can be ok, there are definitely two kinds of people.

The Categories.

There are two kinds of people, one that moves when being approached by traffic on the sidewalk, and the person that doesn't move.

Here we will break down the categories of the person that doesn't move.

To recap from Part One:

1. They don't care
2. They don't see you.
3. The assessor.

Non-mover, Category One: They don't care

I think these are the peeps that ruffle my 30 something feathers the most. I've never understood non-caring people in this world. I do, and can relate to some back stories on how they may have come to be the stoic or stone like person they are, I can. I mean, have you watched the Avengers? Maybe Loki would have turned out different had he known where he came from. Jusy sayin'. But I also believe that in each one of us is still the innate sense of right and wrong, good and evil, to care and not to care. There is that decision we make in all of us, every day, every second to CHOOSE. And Loki done chose wrong. (improper grammar I know, but it's fun to do that sometimes)

And so do the non-carer's (again not a word - meaning: people who don't care). They make this choice every day, every second.


A couple of weeks ago, I attended my first, First Avenue concert. For those not privy, this is a local downtown Minneapolis venue for intimate places to worship enjoy your favorite local/national/worldly bands, up close and personal. I went and saw Silversun Pickups on a complete whim. Long story short, a friend couldn't go, I got two tickets - and I brought a friend. And we went. Now mind you, it was on a Tuesday night, and this 30 something mother of three was questioning her judgment of such a foolish thing her 20 something self would have been like "Hell yeah!" about. But this 30 something self was really being a doubtful-yet still hopeful rocker, in this wild week night -adventure.

Anyway, it paid off. It was totally rad-i-cal. And I can see why I have heard that our Minnesota rock n' roll legend Prince appreciated this venue space for concert goers and artists. It was awesome.

So here we are, my friend and I. At a rock n' roll concert on a Tuesday night. We both work government jobs, Monday through Friday, we both have kids, and we both love music. We are making our way to the stage as the first band Kiev exits, and we get ready for the main event. My maybe 5' 1" friend wants to get closer to the stage, so you know, she can actually see what and who we are here to see. So we gently make our way up. She finds a spot that looks good in front of these two taller men. She nudges one of them and sweetly asks, "Do yo mind if we stand in front of you? I can't see behind you." With a hearty "of course", both gentleman agree and let us go in front of them, even though I myself am a close 5'8".

Silversun Pickups start- smoke is in the air, lights are flashing, and people are screaming. I think I've died and gone to rocker's heaven. It was grand. See for yourself:

Most of the concert continues as such. We raise our hands when the music is rocking, we sway back and forth to the beat, and the guys behind us continue to be delightful. We are about 3/4 of the way through the concert when the "they don't care" guys arrive. Managing to have pushed their way from wherever they had been, they literally elbow my friend to get in front of her. And she is standing look at their non-caring behind. These three overage frat-like men boys, start bouncing around, screaming like they are at their buddies rugby game. My friend manages to make it back in front of them, but I am behind them. I can see, but they don't care that we are now separated. They are together, boozed up and high, and that is all they care about. My friend manages to say something to one of them, he sort of shakes his head in agreement, but nothing is to be done.

The guys that were behind us shake their heads in concert etiquette disgust, and I pull my vertically challenged friend back to me, as I have acquired a better space off to the side of the Three Stooges. They continue to step on my feet and bump in to me without another thought for the remainder of the concert. Attempting to block them out, the thought of this whole revelation came to me again. There are two kinds of people. And I knew exactly which one these ding dongs belonged too.

The non-carer's are just that. They just - don't - care. They really don't. Whether from entitlement, gender, impairment, or whatever other crazy thing you can think up educated ailment they have acquired, caring is just not in their human walking, talking vocabulary. And what makes it worse, is your attempts to enlighten them, only makes their sense of power build.

And out erupts the ego within, making you feel small, and making them feel more powerful. Their ego being noticed and acknowledge is building its fortress of pride and arrogance. The king of its castle, the ego lifts itself to new heights as the walls of caring come crashing down.

And the non-carer- carries on.

Non-mover, Category Two: They don't see you

And then, there are some, that just don't see you.

I know, how does one not "see you" on a skinny concrete path? I agree. The same thought enters my mind every time. But I have sort of been there before on this road of life. For instance, have you ever left one place in your car, by foot, or bike pedal, and arrived at your destination and thought, "How did I get here?" (loaded question- keep it simple). Like truly, I know I was driving/walking/pedaling, and I guess I'm thankful no one got hurt. You were just so involved in your own thought, your own world, your own worry, or dream, that you missed everything passing you by on the trip.

It's scary. I think this happens more than we would like to admit. And so sometimes, I feel like we run in to these people on the sidewalk that just - don't - see you. There have definitely been times in my life where this is who I was in some way. Times where I was so entrenched in my own worries, my own guilt, my own shame, that I failed to see those in front of me. It wasn't until I bumped in to them, and looked up, and apologized, that I then realized - there they were. They were there all along. I just didn't see them, I just didn't notice them.

And sometimes, its just this day, this world we live in. With technology being what it is, I think we have all seen been that person coming towards us, head down, walking swiftly yet stumbling to and fro on the straight on the path ahead. Our iPhone and headphones on, texting, listening to music and checking our email, while chatting to our mom on our lunch break, we don't even see the world or people around us.

Is this you?

I know its been me before. These non-movers aren't always the bad guy. They're your mom, sister, best friend, son, daughter - any one of us at a given time. Sometimes, they just need a good collision with another human being, that "sees" them, to remind them, that they are on the walk, the path, the journey of life with them. Whether for a second or an eternity, these collisions can awaken and open this non-mover in to the reality around them. A gentle nudge to look up, to turn off the phone, to listen (take out the ear buds). The world is living.

Are you?

Think about that. But not while you're on the sidewalk. Just kidding. "Talk amongst ya selves', I'll give you a topic." Mike Meyers from Saturday Night Live tells you in his skit called, Coffee Talk. With his New York - Brooklyn accent in woman's attire and long painted nails and an exaggerated woman's voice.

And here's your next category.

Non-mover, Category Three: The Assessor

Aha. Last but not least (not in the least bit), the assessor.

I kind of enjoy these people. But not in a super loving way. More of like, I'm watching a comedy, type way. Critical thinkers, problem solvers, equations and outcomes. A+B does equal C. I get it. It does, but sometimes, you do have to factor in some variables to see the bigger picture.

The assessor is someone who judges, makes a list, and resolves the issue with a product - a plan based on their own equation of logic and reason in determining whether to move or not. So, sometimes these non-movers, may actually move. But the science of it has to be particular and decisive to make that move be put in to action.

In a sense, if this category were to be a fictional character, I would say he/she would have to be Dwight, from The Office. Always assessing the scenario, and almost always getting it wrong. And in the meantime, being freakin' hilarious.

As they walk down the sidewalk, as a group approaches, the assessor is contemplating, equating, "How many people are there? Are there young children? Are they at least acknowledging my ego me? Are they attempting to move over, I mean they are the ones taking up the whole sidewalk? Do they look important? Will this benefit me if I move over?" And so on and so forth, the equation begins to convert to an outcome of possible answers that the assessor must choose in order to make the right decision.

And to the ego inside the assessor, all is right with the world. There is no contemplating or reflection afterwards if they right decision was concluded. They assessed, they chose, and therefore they did the right thing, based on their most precise calculations. In fact, they deserve a nice pat on the (pats themselves on the back), there we go - good on you.

And the assessor, carries on.

You see, the one thing they failed to miss in their interpretation of their experiment/study, was the person. Not what they saw or calculated in by the assessor's version of the person in front them. But the person. For we all hold judgments and our own calculations of the people we come in contact with. And sometimes I too, fall in to the assessor category.

 Based on my life, my upbringing, my encounters, I have assessed and made judgments based on my experiences, not the individual before me. And therefore, based on my calculations and interpretations of that from my own life, I have assessed the other person's worth based on me. Not them. Not who they truly are, not the fact that they are just another human being trying to make it through the another day on this rotating piece of dirt, and sky, and energy. Another person who based on their experiences, became a product of that which surrounded them.

And so.

The assessor, preening his feathers as he passes by, nestles in to his ego's encouraging arms, and continues on the path before him.

So now what?

The thing is again friends, it is really quite simple. And shouldn't the simple things come easy? I'm here to tell you, for some reason, they do not.

You just have to be nice.

That's it.

And I know for some of you, for some of us, even the movers, some days this is a really hard concept to overcome. Because it is easier to not care, it is easier to not look up, it is easier to let the ego take over and control your actions. Because then, you don't have to think, you don't have to worry, you don't have to care. It's easier to make the other people on the sidewalk move. It's easier to try and blend in, to not be noticed, to not be cared about.

But we have to do it. We have to care. So move over on the sidewalk today to let someone pass. Smile. Ok, you don't have to smile if this is your first time. Add that in later when you feel a bit more comfortable in this new, caring skin. Because eventually, you will feel better. Eventually, you will notice a difference. Eventually, the world will notice the difference. If we all cared. If we all became movers.

So just do it.

Part Three: the movers - coming soon


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