My Life Isn’t Very Exciting

I asked a barista recently what they liked to do when they weren’t slinging coffee. “I like drinking coffee!” they volleyed back at me with a quick smile. But then they prefaced their real answer by saying their life wasn’t very exciting. Of course I understood what they meant and tried to relate to them, saying I know what it is to not have some sort of amazing list of things to talk about.

However this moment stuck with me, it itched. Later, I kept thinking about how I don’t like the way both of us so casually belittled our own stories. I worry that this is a symptom of what the social internet has done to us. After constantly viewing highlight reels, have we slipped into feeling our own day-to-day experience is not worth the breath in conversation?

I know we can do better. I can do better. I aspire to be the kind of person who takes a beat, shifts the emphasis if I need to, and creates an opportunity to connect in the process. I imagine a version of myself where I might have replied “Our lives happen in moments, big and small. Many of them aren’t exciting per se, that doesn’t mean they don’t matter. Personally I find a lot of joy in simple pleasures like gardening, listening to audio books, and drawing. Tell me more about yours.”

Of course it’s easy to replay a conversation in your head and come up with something you could have said better. I try not to do that too much. But I think that there’s something here that is important, that could shift with the power of my intention and yours.

If we are to be friends, tell me about the moments of your life. Don’t worry about whether or not they are exciting or aesthetically pleasing. Trust that your interests might just spark mine.