[ From the Archives of 365 ]
“Treat every day as if it is the last day you will see. Life is so fragile; you never know what could happen in a second. There are so many unforeseen pitfalls. Everything could be fantastic and could change instantly.”
The first words Richard (yup, he has the same name as me), my new friend, shared with me today.
Yes, I have seen him many times walking his dog through a nearby neighborhood near where I live. And sure, I’ve caught eye contact with him on occasion. But sadly, I’ve never taken the time to introduce myself. But after over 100 days of meeting strangers, my life is different now, and I have pledged to never pass on saying a polite good day to anyone who connects with me eye to eye. Today is such a day.
It’s almost dusk as I’m driving on Richard’s street. No rush to be anywhere, no stress in my mind, and doing my best to live life as prescribed to me by many of my 365 friends over the last one hundred days.
One hundred days… I need to pause on that…
365 has been an amazing journey, and it’s hard to believe that I’m apexing towards the half way point. One hundred days? I guess that for all of you reading my posts makes us a centennial community. A milestone I could never have accomplished without the openness, and bravery, of all of you. And I am proud to call you my friends.
With this said, let’s all take a moment to celebrate. No, not with a fan fair. And cancel the open bar and the band. Our celebration is going to be a little different. How about instead, that we call it a tribute?
That tribute: Let yourself slow down to take a simple breath. To find a moment of calmness. And give yourself permission to drop the stress. To look at the world around you with curious eyes.
And in reviewing Richard’s concept of treating every day as if it is the last, perhaps we will see what is going on around us more clearly. And in talking with him about the meaning of his council, I can honestly say, his perspective is a supportive request for peace of mind and of respect for the lives of others.
In one seemingly fatalistic statement, he supports the positive observations and words shared by so many of you.
Oh, that’s a stretch Mr. Radstone; you are a word bender. No, not really. My friend Richard delivers the goods to support his positive outlook.
First, he has a killer flu; I’m even surprised he allowed me to photograph him. As we talked, I could see that he was so congested that he could not breath through his nose. I’m sure you have been there, and to have meaningful conversation when ill can be quite a challenge. I’m glad he was able to focus on our chat. For what Richard expresses are words we all need to hear.
You see, Richard’s life has been an homage to serving society. A high school teacher, he has dedicated the last twenty-six years to educating special needs students. This is something that he does not aggressively flaunt; I even have to lure it out of him. But once we start the discussion, I am allowed into the life of a very kind and patient man. One whose only wish is this, “Leave the planet in good shape for the next generation.”
On that topic, we briefly talked of environmental, economic, and political issues. But these topics are not exactly what Richard is referring to. What he is addressing is a direct call to society, “Treat each other kindly. No matter what our condition, we all have something to offer. Learn to not only love yourself, but be accepting of others, again, no matter what their condition.”
“It touches me when I see the joy of parents who see progress in their children or when one of my students is successful in their development.”
Richard has the chops to make this claim. Think about it, twenty-six years working with special needs teens and their families. That takes a special person.
“Whether mentally or physically disabled, people are people, and we need to look at each other as such.”
“I see lots of love coming from my students, as well as parents that are so dedicated to their children. Having a special needs child is a blessing, but it is difficult and a life long commitment.”
Regarding what Richard calls a blessing, he says this, “These kids have a lot to offer: talents, aspirations and personalities.” And as he speaks, I feel the compassion of Richard’s commitment to his community as he shares this with me.
Even his perspective of the school where he has been teaching for his entire career, and incidentally, the alma mater of my wife, reflects his commitment in seeing good.
“I’ve been a school teacher at Canoga High since 1985. It’s a great campus with great programs. We have lots of advanced classes and it is a nice place to work. I don’t understand why so many families are sending their kids to other schools.”
Does Richard care? I truly think so as he states, “It touches me when I see the joy of parents who see progress in their children or when one of my students is successful in their development.”
Twenty-six years has Richard dedicated to one agenda: to be a good teacher.
So in tribute to all of you, and to Richard, let’s all join this day in a challenge of connection. To keep our chins up as we interact with the world around us. To look at people as people. And as we to simply say: “Good Day”
Richards wish for the future:
“’I’d like to know that the day shall come when people will look back and say, ‘we left the world a better place.’”
Richard (my new friend), Please keep teaching, and I hope you feel better, I know the flu is a bummer.
Talk tomorrow my good friends,
Richard (the guy who talks to strangers)
