The Critical Eye

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Thursday, October 27, 2011

Made of Gold

So today while picking up my medicine from my neighborhood pharmacist, he tells me that my name means "Made of Gold" in Hindi. Never heard that one before and it caused me to pause. "Made of Gold," boy have I not felt anywhere near to that in years. Always special, just never "Made of Gold". The Sesame street song come to mind, "Who are the people in your neighborhood?" Well my pharmacist's a person in my neighborhood, and he made me feel good, feel special.

Now, I know what my name means in Lunda and I'm not sure if what he says is true (I will be checking), however he had no other reason to say it except we are almost on first name basis. Sad to say I have needed prescription medication for so long that I developed a relationship with the Pharmacist, but the fact that his words got me on a day like today is a blessing. I am learning that there is critical value in positive engagement.

Today I purposed myself to have lunch with a friend that I have treated like an acquaintance for years. We have always spoken about getting together and a few days ago I asked him to break bread with me, and so we sat in Pei Wei and made friendly conversation. It made me realize that my walk has been a lonely one, void of true connection and remembrance of the special things about me. I have been told by many just how they appreciate me and yet I still suffer from the pangs of loneliness that have been fueled by a life of unappreciated achievement.

Yet when the Indian Pharmacist told me "Made of Gold," my mind connected. Yes, I am. I need to remember that.

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