smile

 

I had my hair cut this morning. It takes me about twenty minutes to walk there, and twenty minutes to walk back.

I smiled at everyone I walked past on the street, and some stationary drivers. Some intentionally looked down or away, before I smiled, to avoid eye-contact with a stranger; but everyone who saw me smile, smiled back. That’s a human response; it says nothing about my lop-sided smile, or how comfortable or otherwise I may be in my own skin: such hang-ups are mine alone.

If I smile at someone approaching me, walking in the other direction—not because I know them, but simply in recognition of another human being going about their day, just as I am going about mine—and if they smile back in return—the smile continues after we have passed each other, eventually fading after about 20 seconds—and then immediately triggering a second smile, caused by the remembrance of the first, lasting perhaps another 10 seconds. Every time.

30 seconds is actually quite a long time. Certainly, as a physically active, ambulant man (even if I can’t walk in a straight line) who is just over six foot tall with the stride that you’d expect from that height, even at a leisurely pace I can cover some distance in that time. But regardless of how far apart we move—the other person and me, walking away from each other—30 seconds is long enough to have an impact on our outlook. Whatever nonsense we are carrying—whatever resentment at the behaviour of someone else, who is not present—whatever conversation we are rehearsing or grudge we are nursing in our mind—it is hard to maintain this in the face of the smile. The smile does a work of softening our heart, as rain softens sun-hardened ground.

And this is only half the story. What can I say about the other person, whose presence in the world—simply going about their own business—initiated my smile towards them? All other things being equal, they too will smile, and have a subsequent shorter smile recollecting the smile as soon as it fades. But a smile can have an even bigger impact. I smiled at one person this morning as we stood on either side of a pedestrian crossing point waiting for the break in the traffic, and they beamed and beamed as if I was the only person who had smiled at them that day. Which I might, or might not, have been. I have no way of telling. And that is the point. A smile could just save a life—that is not an exaggeration, it could literally make the difference between someone giving up on life and their keeping going—and you have no way of knowing. So—for love of God and neighbour—smile. You’ll be showing loving-kindness to yourself at the same time.