How would you handle a massive, unforeseen and utterly devastating curveball if it came crashing into your life? Perhaps you already have, or are. Or perhaps you have no idea and just hope you don’t have to find out.
Lisa Raitt’s life was turned upside down several years ago when her life partner was diagnosed with young-onset Alzheimers disease. He was 56 years old. Lisa was 48. She went from being a powerful federal politician to being a hands-on primary caregiver. An extraordinary transformation.
Maya Angelou said, “If you don’t like something, change it; if you can’t change it, change your attitude.” Managing our attitude about change is the real game.
Transformation isn’t always something we choose. And we can never know what is on the other side of it. We just have to be right here for each step taking us through the change.
I’m thankful to Lisa Raitt for her exemplary courage in facing so much uncertainty, and for her candour in sharing it with me in this interview. So much about this conversation really blew me away. I hope you enjoy it.
This week’s Unknown:
I rode the train to Ottawa this week. Taking VIA rail is itself a leap into the unknown, given the network’s staggeringly poor record of punctual service. But the greater uncertainty came in starting a conversation with the stranger beside me. As a fairly friendly person who speaks to invisible strangers through a microphone for a living, it may seem odd that I would feel any discomfort in striking up a chat with my seat mate. But I do. Turns out we all have a familiarity bias, preferring to stick with the safety of what we know. Research at the University of Chicago confirms that most people assume the risk of starting conversation with strangers during a train commute will be somehow unpleasant and not worth the effort. And yet, the same researchers found those predictions are mistaken; those who talk to strangers report much more positive experiences.
So I pushed through my discomfort and broke the silence with the woman beside me—a Ph.D. in biochemical engineering on her way to a Defence department conference. True to the research, I saw immediately that I had mistaken her silence for disinterest. It was remarkable how quickly and easily we slipped past the small talk and into very meaningful conversation, about family, food, loss and creativity. I don’t know her name but I know the rest of the train ride felt completely different—warmer for being shared. Adding friction, it’s full of surprises.
How easy it is to keep company with our phones when we’re on a train; seeking solitude in the company of strangers, doubting the degree to which they might possibly care about our deeper thoughts or feelings. To experience that assumption being disproven is nothing short of delightful. My small conversational leap into the unknown—breaking the familiarity bias—taught me a lot, and makes me more convinced to try it again next time.
This week’s Love Affair:
It’s just flowers.
Everything is in bloom, bursts of delight around every corner. So I am pausing more to pay attention. Blossoms, magnificent and fleeting, are a reminder to be present. I know it’s biology that drives those flowering trees and shrubs to erupt in fragrant, colourful explosions, but I can almost convince myself that they do it for our benefit; a siren call to the busy, the purposeful, the distracted, to rip us briefly out of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms—as David Foster Wallace called our self-obsessed minds—to be right the hell here and present for this. This is it. Right here. This delicate petal, this brassy perfume, this shock of colour. Don’t miss it. Pay attention. We’re more alive with it than without it.
Onward—something to consider:
Look for opportunities to connect with a stranger—the crossing guard, the cashier, the gas station attendant. The City of London held a Talk to Me campaign several years ago to encourage more prosocial interactions. Kalina Silverman’s Big Talk campaign is a viral hit, clear proof of what is possible when we push past our discomfort and make a meaningful connection. Conduct your own research experiment and see if it doesn’t leave you feeling more inclined to do it again.
I’d love to hear about how it goes. Don’t be a stranger;)
Thank you, as always, for reading. And for listening…
Gill
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