There is a new rule on the compound. When approaching the guards, drivers need to put their windows down so that the guards can verify whom they are before opening the gates.
This, I thought, was a bit much. Usually when I approach the compound I raise my hand in acknowledgement, the guards open the gates and I give a firm nod or thumbs up as I drive past. Today, since there was an admonishment written in red, that the gates will not be opened unless the driver’s window is down, I reluctantly complied.
When I put down the window I greeted the guard, “Good morning.” The guard cheerfully replied, “Good morning Ms Attong.” When I drove through the open gate I said
“Thanks” and he replied “You’re welcome.”
I thought how pleasant was that. When the glass is up, I never hear the guards’ voices and they never hear mine. How sad is that? I pass these guys every day and I never say hello, I just toss my hand into the air and I am off, without stopping to find out how they are. Here I am yearning for human connection and I never thought that my car glass was shutting people out. In the simplest of ways I can connect with others on a daily basis when I say hello to the guards.
What was I thinking? That a nod could replace a thank you, that the wave of a hand is a greeting. I am wondering where else in my life I have my glass up, where else in my life do I nod instead of saying hello, where else in my life am I shutting people out because it is expedient to do so?
What about you? Where in your life is your glass up? What would it be like if you were to put it down?