Interrupted
Our culture prizes comfort - we need the opposite.
For years, I dreamed of visiting the UK — Ancient castles! Posh accents! Rolling hills! What could be better?
Finally, last summer, my dream became a reality. I traveled with my church’s youth group to Edinburgh, Scotland to volunteer at a summer camp for Scottish kids. I loved soaking in every detail of Scottish life and culture. I learned some Scottish slang, tried some new foods, and even saw the Scottish crown jewels!
A memory I continue to revisit, though, is a little unexpected. On my first night in Scotland, our Scottish hosts fixed a delicious dinner. After a long day of traveling, eating a home-cooked meal absolutely hit the spot. Trying my best to be a grateful guest, I quickly gathered my dishes after the meal was over and prepared to toss the remnants of my meal in the trash.
Suddenly, my host stopped me—”Wait!”
I froze. Had I done something wrong?
My host hastened to assure me that I hadn’t offended her. “We actually compost those food scraps,” she explained with a smile.
I learned over the following week that many other Scots do, too. To them, it was a normal part of daily life, but to us Americans, it was a profoundly different way of thinking about a meal. I became much more aware of what I was eating and what was going into the garbage. I started to consider whether my food was compostable or not, whether it was organic waste or cooked food waste. I’ve returned to my daily life with fresh eyes on my habits around food.
My habit of throwing all waste in the trash was interrupted by a new norm: composting. As a result, I began to approach an unconscious routine with new awareness.
To them, it was a normal part of daily life, but to us Americans, it was a profoundly different way of thinking about a meal.
I tend to approach so much of my life with this same unconscious attitude. I move along out of the half-asleep habit rather than choosing steps forward with intention and thoughtful reflection. Being interrupted by an unusual practice forced me to wake up and take a look around at my life, my choices, and my assumptions.
Interruptions in our daily lives can be frustrations, but they can also offer us something precious: the chance to see life and those we love in a new, hopeful way. I challenge you to do the same. Like composting, interruption to our typical routines can be uncomfortable and inconvenient.
Interruptions in our daily lives can be frustrations, but they can also offer us something precious.
When you or I are interrupted, let’s consider:
Why have I always done this the same way?
Where have I made assumptions about my family, friends, and neighbors?
Where do I reinforce my own beliefs by failing to listen to others?
Why do I write off people and habits I don’t like?
Maybe these reflections won’t ultimately change the way my life looks on the surface (I still haven’t figured out how to compost when you have cats that like to get into the trash), but they do help me respond to interruptions with patience and curiosity, and that gives me hope.
Madeline
Madeline Pannell is the Executive Associate to the CEO at the One America Movement
Have you experienced interruptions in life (large or small) that have prompted you to reflect on these questions? We’d love to hear your story—you can share it in the comments!
Well said, Madeline Pannell!
This is such a great read. My parents are simple people from Pakistan who are now American Citizens. My dad is a son of Farmer and would save eggshells, banana peels etc. I thought it was funny that they do that, but this article made me realize how normal and relatable they are . It also shows how as a human race doing the right thing is always the right thinG no matter how laughable and stupid it looks.