When I Helped, And When I Didn’t: Two Stories About Becoming Better

Occasionally, we live up to our image of ourselves. The idealized picture of who we think we are in our hearts aligns with the one in our heads.
Those are good days.
On other days, we come up short.
This is a story about both types of days, how I lived them on vacation last week, and what they mean for me and you.
Shelter In Place
When I get to travel, I am not gregarious. I’m not afraid of flying or afflicted with anxiety. I’m just more comfortable pulling in, marshalling my energy, and getting through the hours consumed by moving from Point A to Point B.
On the flight out of town last week, when an older woman flumped into the seat beside me, I popped on my headphones and began to watch a movie. She didn’t scowl at me. She didn’t do anything in particular. I just did what I always do.
After we were airborne, I could see my seatmate struggling. She had several devices with her including an iPad, a Kindle, and an iPhone. None of them would do what she wanted them to do.
She couldn’t load YouTube on her tablet. Books would not appear on the Kindle. And she couldn’t send messages on her phone.
Frustrated, she stowed the devices, and waited for the flight to end.
And I sat right beside her. Watching my movie. Not helping.
Learning Lessons
A few days later, while on a treadmill at the gym, I got a second chance to be the person I think I am.
Fifteen minutes into my walk, an older gentleman climbed onto the treadmill beside mine. He stared at a screen full of bold red letters. Not good.
He tapped at the screen a few times. Felt around the edges of the display for a button, but got nowhere.
The treadmill wouldn’t move because the last person who’d used it had punched the red emergency stop button and deactivated it. To move again, the emergency stop would need to be reset by pushing in a thin red button on the side of the housing.
I paused my treadmill, took out my ear bud, and waved my hand to get the man’s attention. When he looked at me, I pantomimed pushing the button on my device. He understood, reset his machine, gave me a thumbs up, and was on his way.
That simple act got me thinking about my bigger picture.
Zoom Out. Panorama.
Eight months into what I dubbed “The Year Of Persistence,” the clouds are allowing some sunshine to slip through.
Thanks to the generosity of Mark Schaefer, I won a ticket in the RISE Community to attend Content Entrepreneur Expo in Cleveland a month ago. The people I met, the conversations I had, and the presentations I absorbed challenged a lot of what I thought about what I plan to do, for who, and why.
I had a hard time answering those key questions when I came home and looked myself in the mirror. Shoot, I had a hard time answering them in the car on the uneventful drive home.
You see, I likely won’t change the minds of masses of people anytime soon to start taking their online privacy seriously. The possible harm from not guarding their digital data is too amorphous for most people to care about.
Regardless of how much I value using a password manager, the early friction is too great. The upsides, though, are tremendous.
And no matter what I do, personal tech will continue to suck the joy out of countless moments for untold millions of people. Toss AI into that same equation and the ranks of those able to use technology adroitly to their advantage is likely to continue to shrink ever more quickly.
But I write pretty well. And I see things from a unique perspective. And I can connect dots and tell stories others can’t.
After all, I don’t need to help millions of people. I only want to help you. One person. Like I did with the guy on the treadmill, and as I should have done with the lady on the plane.
So that’s what I’m going to do.
I’m going to help smart, capable people and small businesses cut through the noise of fast-changing personal and everyday technology and AI tools so they feel confident, save time, and stay in control.
And the next time one of us sees a person struggling with technology, we will help.
If that sounds good to you, let me know. And tell a friend about it by sending them this link to sign up for my weekly newsletter: danchrist.com/subscribe/.
Working together, there’s nothing we can’t figure out.
0 Comments