“Mind the closing doors” is a phrase that commuters are sick to death of hearing. Its also a phrase that most people adhere to, save a few that we immediately roll our eyes and tut at. But that’s because they barge on for themselves, getting their arms or bags caught, just to save an extra few minutes waiting for the next tin can stuffed to the brim. But today, reader, I was that person. Or, rather, someone else was that person for me.
As I approached the platform, through the network of tunnels, I saw the tube waiting, with its doors open. I broke into a half-run, expecting to catch it, but alas, I heard the warning beeps of the closing doors, just as I reached the dreaded yellow line. But then, oh but then. A foot stuck itself out from where the doors slide out, and a kind stranger stopped the door, giving me time to board and promoting the message “please stand clear of the doors”.
Now, I wasn’t too bothered if I missed the train; the bakerloo line runs every couple of minutes so it made no real difference to me. But it was an act of kindness, from a man who owed me nothing, expected nothing in return, and that I would never see again. It’s prompted me to look again at my commute, at every aspect of my life, and think about how I could use small, random acts of kindness, just to keep the cycle of goodwill alive. Giving up my seat without hesitation (come on, you know we all think twice before offering it up); buying a round of coffee in the morning to help the day along for my teammates; smiling at strangers; all small acts that could really go a long way to improving someone’s day.
So, thank you, kind stranger, for keeping that door open for me. Please do mind the closing doors though. The delays can be a real inconvenience…
I am a pole dancer. Very loosely. I’m more of a pole climber and fall-off-er. But I’m working on it. If you’ll let me, I’d like to bring you along for the ride, and show you what pole will end up doing for me, and what it could do for you! I want to document my progress as this will, finally, be a permanent and regular fixture in my life, from now on.
Continue reading My Pole Journey: Chapter 1
Why do people care so much about what other people like? Why do we police people’s opinions so much?
Let me clarify – I do not mean that your rascist/homophobic/intolerant opinions are just guilty pleasures that you shouldn’t be ashamed of, because you should be. Feel ashamed. Shame.
What I really mean is who cares if you like Justin Bieber or trashy romcoms or, God forbid, Nickelback? More importantly, why? I can’t imagine anything less dull than telling people that thing they enjoy is terrible and they should be ashamed of it, but so many people seem to think their opinions matter more than everyone else’s.
As I type this, I’m on my way to see Pitch Perfect 3 – the epitome of a guilty pleasure. Singing, dancing, romance, it’s basically a Bollywood film written in English. And I love it. It speaks to me as a woman, as a singer, as a recent graduate. But so many of my colleagues and friends turn their noses up at it. Why? Maybe because it’s a “chick-flick”? Maybe because they all wish they had those angelic voices? Maybe because it’s just something fun that doesn’t take itself too seriously?
We all seem to make the mistake of taking ourselves too seriously and wanting to portray a certain image to the outside world, but really all that matters is how things make you feel. And if Pitch Perfect makes me feel happy on the inside and let’s me relive my university days, well I’m all ears. Because who’s going to remember how cool you were when you’re 80? No one. But you’ll be the one left with regrets of the things you tossed aside because they were too “cheesy”, “sad” or “dorky”.
Embrace your inner nerd. Embrace your loves. Embrace your self.