People

Standard

I am surrounded by wonderful people.

My best friend is Mary Poppins reincarnated. She has this magical way of knowing how to get everything done in a limited amount of time. She’s the most prepared woman I know. If it’s not in her purse, you probably don’t really need it. She can survive for weeks on end functioning on only three hours of sleep a night and can still be cheerful with all of the people she interacts with at her retail job. She is Wonderwoman.

My roommate is always sunny. She can be laid low by the worst kind of sniffles and still be thinking about you over herself. She always walks a though her head is in the clouds, off in some dream world where all of the things she needs to do are magically getting done. When she finally lights somewhere, she sits down and diligently does all those things, even though she’d rather be writing.

I know a guy who inspires me to care more about what God thinks of me than what others think of me. He doesn’t know this. He is the kind of person who takes individuality very seriously—as well as taking God very seriously. He is artistic and wacky and talented and plain old different. His differentness rubbed a lot of people the wrong way in high school. He doesn’t know this, but he was the one who made me want to be different, and that blending in is not the chief end of man. Although his refined fashion sensibilities would probably make him turn up his nose at my outfit selection of electric blue tights and a bright orange shirt, little does he know that he is responsible for this peculiar arrangement.

One of my supervisors at work is one of the most fascinating women I have ever met. During meetings I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m paying attention to what she’s saying, and not just watch her Lucille-Ball-esque facial expressions. She is articulate, vivacious, and rigidly diligent, which are several traits worth admiring. What’s more, she always treats her workers like her children. Not a holiday goes by when she doesn’t give us all goody bags or bring in candy or something homemade. And she is an expert on knowing the best time to give a person whose heart is hurting a hug.

A coworker of mine is the kind of guy who is everyone’s big brother. He is what some might call a natural leader: people follow him readily without him forcing them to. His sense of humor is gently teasing, but he never teases to put people down or make people feel as though they’ve said something out of turn when they were just trying to be funny. He is not exclusive, and says “Hello” to anyone whose face he recognizes. He is one of the few people I know who, when he asks “How are you?”, can ask the question genuinely.

And there are hundreds and hundreds more in this square mile of campus alone who are just as kind, thoughtful, talented, and inspiring. I’ve only mentioned a handful. That’s all I have time for. It’s just that it occurred to me today that I spend altogether too much time thinking about myself. Dwelling on myself for too long is a waste of time, considering there are all of these fascinating and brilliant people around me whose lives are bright, beautiful, and unique—and much more deserving of my mental energies.

There are beautiful people in your life as well, reader. Can you think of a face? Can you remember a name? Can you forget yourself long enough to ponder the loveliness of another of God’s fearfully and wonderfully made creations?

Advertisements

3 responses »

  1. In answer to your last question, I can ……… YOU!
    You have an abundance of all of those aforementioned, admirable qualities, as well as one of the greatest of all — you inspire!

Ramble back at me...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s