[01.20] - Good Intentions

They say the road to hell is paved with such. By ‘they’ I mean people like me.

At least, I used to. Truth be told, I still do, especially when some sweet soul insists on defending someone’s bad behaviour. I meant to pick you up from the airport: instead I stayed in bed. I meant to tell you about that job opening: instead I hired my incompetent half-cousin. I meant to tell you a mac truck was hurtling towards you. Tell it to the people with the highway spatulas who shovel up the roadkill. Right?

I stand by my original conviction, to an extent. Meaning to do something good doesn’t quite cut it, whether you’re following mainstream Christianity’s claims of the pathway to heaven or you’re explaining to a pissed-off five-year-old why they’re getting half a bottle of Windex for their birthday ’cause you intended to stop by Kelly’s.

Slowly, though, I might be coming around to that other point of view, the one more forgiving folk express when I rattle off my road-to-hell response to a situation. Perhaps intentions, though no substitute for actions, do count for a little something.

There are, for instance, times when, contrary to best efforts, success just can’t be had. Like this morning when, despite leaving home 25 minutes early, I still wound up slightly late for a meeting.

If that well-meant road is indeed so paved, many sad victims would scatter its walks. Lovingly iced birthday cakes that hit the floor on the way out from the kitchen. Documents perfectly drafted to beat a deadline, right before the computer crashes. People who constantly put in effort, but simply aren’t that bright. Expensive trips planned long in advance, then cancelled last-minute when tragedies arise.

We all understood the value of meaning well back in school, when teachers assigned grades for both achievement and effort. Of course, life in the real world tends to cut down the validity of that system; when’s the last time you got a raise for failing, even if you did try hard?

I doubt anyone will be convincing their supervisor that effort without results are worth a promotion. But in other scenarios, appreciating attempts and motivations is still worthwhile.

Say you’re rushing to finish a big project. You need all your attention, and any interruption not only slows you down, it stresses you out. Then someone—friend, relation, would-be Good Samaritan—pops up. Again. And again. And again. You want—actually, need—to be left alone, but still, there they are, a veritable Jack-in-the-box of vexation. Do you want some water? Aren’t you hungry? Could you use a cushion? How about a bagel?

Annoying as it is, Mr. or Mrs. Jack warrants more points than those who wants to slow you down for selfishness or spite. True, when, at the end of an hour or two, you still haven’t accomplished the task you faced, you’ll have to put in more time either way. But if it’s possible to understand and, on some level, appreciate the mindset of the person who means well, it can reveal that they actually do care. Not that they care about annoying you, but that they care about you. That’s a pretty good result in itself.


- ja**ly