When I read a recent post by freelance writer Pat Gallagher, I decided to write today's article.
Ms. Gallagher began her column with these words:
"People who we don't really know actually mean more to us than we realize, especially after they disappear.
"They are, what I call, peripheral people. We notice them, we know of them, but we don't know them. For whatever reason, peripheral people become part of our lives because they begin to permeate our thoughts each time we see them. Maybe it's a cashier in the local supermarket who whistles while he's scanning the groceries or a particular waitress in a restaurant we frequent . . ."
Here are a few of my own "peripheral people"
Acacia, the lively, always courteous clerk at Office Max
Judy, my postal delivery person
Kamal, owner/manager of my UPS store
Victoria, Ruth, Terry, Erma, Sue Jo, volunteer clerks at my library bookstore.
Marcela, clerk at Suncoast Casino
Arcely, counter-person at my dry cleaning shop
Ron, owner-manager of my auto repair shop
Gary, my tech support provider
Brad, Josh, Ron, Jackie, Jena, Marci, Karen, librarians at my library
Diana and Joy, cashiers at my drugstore
Lee and Kailen, security guards at my library
I'd surely miss them if they were gone. And not just because they provided services. I'd miss them because they brighten my days with smiles and humor and a personal connection. That human connection makes all the difference.
Here are two personal examples:
1. During the early 1980s I taught a workshop called "The 7 Skills of Confident Conversation." One of my students was an elderly woman from Brooklyn who had re-located to Honolulu to be near her daughter.
Mrs. Schwartz lived in a pleasant Waikiki apartment, but she felt isolated being away from her friends of a lifetime. When she traveled by bus to attend the weekly sessions she kept to herself, much as folks do when riding the subways of New York City.
I made the simple suggestion that she say hello (actually, "Aloha") to strangers on the bus and to those in the elevator of her apartment building. She took my suggestion and began speaking to others with this simple self-introduction: "Aloha! My name is Esther Schwartz, and I recently moved here from Brooklyn, NY to be near my daughter."
People responded positively, and soon strangers became acquaintances, and some acquaintances became close friends. The "Aloha Spirit" was alive and well, and Mrs. Schwartz was now "home."
2. In 2003 I traveled to Nicaragua with my son Aaron. We were "travelers," not "tourists," and stayed for a week in homes of ordinary working people in 2 cities (Leon and Granada) and one small town (San Juan del Sur.) Doing this gave us the opportunity to know real Nicaraguans. It was a wonderful experience to connect with the "locals" and brush up our Spanish skills. If we had stayed in tourist hotels, we would have met only "peripheral people" like concierges and waiters and fellow tourists.
In his fine 2009 book, "The Geography of Bliss," Eric Weiner wrote that the key factor that contributed to human happiness is "community," a sense of being connected with others. He found that climate didn't seem to matter (Iceland was one of the happiest places he visited) nor did personal income.
Nicaragua is one of the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere, yet Aaron and I found many locals we met to be cheerful, friendly, and welcoming --despite their poverty. When we observed them interacting, we saw liveliness and good humor among those people who earned only about 50 Cordobas (2 U.S. dollars) per day.
The word peripheral means "at the outer boundary." In our social lives, we have the choice to move toward those peripheral people at our outer boundaries, or we could also invite them to move closer from an outer boundary toward ourselves.
To transform others from peripheral strangers into acquaintances and friends is quite easy. We can share something about ourselves, or we can ask them about themselves. When the cashier at the supermarket asks "How's your day going?" we can share a specific such as "Great! My sister is visiting for the holidays, and I'm really enjoying our time together." Or you can ask the cashier how long she's worked at that store, or where she's from originally, or about her family.
Happiness flows from feeling connected. Remember the example of Mrs. Schwartz, that when you connect personally with the peripheral people in your life, you'll have earned more happiness.