How To Talk To Strangers

To Decrease Anxiety, Build Confidence, and Make a Bigger Difference in the World

Kerrie Phipps

• Éditeur: Create The Life Club ATF Lynkez Family Trust
• Année: 2021
• ISBN:
  9780994157355
• Édition: 1
• Sujet: Psychology
• Sous-sujet: Interpersonal Relations in Psychology

You already impact people positively, but know you could be doing more.

This book is an invitation to think more deeply about how you connect with others, so you don't overlook important connections, or risk missing opportunities to impact people, and the chance to change your own life in the process.

Together with Kerrie's friends, you'll learn how to:

• push past your comfort zone to connect with others
• do simple act of kindness that change lives in unexpected ways
• increase your opportunities by saying 'yes'

When you say 'yes', you increase your own confidence and positively impact others, ultimately becoming the difference make out you've always wanted to be.

A more connected, hope-filled and collaborative world starts here.

© Copyright 2021 Kerrie Phipps - Create the Life Club Pty Ltd

PART ONE

Decreasing Anxiety

BEING HELPED

I asked my friends to reflect on moments when a sense of anxiety decreased, or evaporated, because of a word or gesture from a stranger. If you don’t think of yourself as an anxious person you might forget about these moments, but they happen to us all.

Sometimes we might go about our day with an undercurrent of anxiety, or we simply find ourselves inconvenienced, but layered upon other inconvenient moments this can become unbearable. Uncertainty and worry keep us stalled, and a simple recommendation or encouragement can make our day - or have a lifelong effect!

So, next time you’re offering a little help, word of encouragement or kindness, know that it is worth it! You could be making a much bigger difference than you’d imagined.

CONOR O’MALLEY - Australia

11 April 2006, on a Qantas flight back to the UK, I was anxious at take-off.

After two days in Melbourne, following a series of interviews and a verbal offer of a job, for the biggest change in my career, I had some concerns. One of my concerns, that both Paula, my wife and I shared, was where to send the children to school.

I was sitting next to a young man, who, when I shared this concern, told me he had gone to a private school in the East of Melbourne. We discussed the private schools in the East of Melbourne, and he ended up writing them all down on a Qantas napkin for me to research when in the UK. Later in the flight, I was talking to a stewardess who, when I shared the concern, told me she had gone to a private school in the Bayside area. I asked her if she would write those schools on another Qantas napkin, she did.

Following these two encounters with strangers, I felt a sense of peace that moving to Australia was possible and one of our core concerns could be taken care of with these two napkins. Our children eventually went to one of those schools on the napkins, and I still have those napkins and treasure them.

My learning in this experience is, it is okay to share your concerns with a stranger because they may well have insights and knowledge to help you find peace or acceptance with your concern.

KATIE SWANSON - United States Of America/Vietnam

My husband and I were 10 months into our European-Asian backpacking trip when the Coronavirus pandemic really caught up to us in Vietnam. We were in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, and in a matter of about 48 hours, the town became eerily quiet and shuttered as businesses were forced to close to contain the spread. We don’t speak Vietnamese and were feeling anxious about our decision to stay in Vietnam to wait it out.

We went to a restaurant that had become our favorite and the owner, a young French man, came over to talk to us. We expressed our fears and uncertainty over whether or not we should find a place in Vietnam to wait it out or … what? We had no idea what we should do. He encouraged us to find a smaller city in Vietnam to wait it out, that staying in quarantine there would be safer than travelling. As we were talking, a fellow business owner came to the restaurant. He owned an Irish pub down the street and was forced by the government to close - on Saint Patrick’s Day of all days! He came by to commiserate with his friend and we all ended up sharing several beers on the patio. It was so grounding to have that moment of conversation and fellowship during a time of such upheaval and uncertainty.

SIMON JACOBS - United Kingdom

I am usually quite a ‘cool customer’, most of the time, and it does take rather a lot to fluster me. However, this hasn’t always been the case.

I think my earliest memory of experiencing the help of another to diminish my fears was when I was about 14 years old and I got the tip of my finger trapped and crushed in a fire door whilst at school.

Not wanting to go into too much gruesome detail, let’s just say the end of my finger looked somewhat flatter than it did before and there was quite a lot of ‘mess’ in the surrounding area.

There must have been heaps of adrenaline coursing through my body at this point as I didn’t and don’t remember feeling any pain, just shock and panic. My PE teacher leapt into action without flinching and rushed me to the reception, where he wrapped my finger tightly in a makeshift bandage and proceeded to call an ambulance.

Had he not reacted so quickly and effectively, I firmly believe I would have spiralled, stressed and passed out. Minutes later the ambulance arrived, and this is where I met yet another calm and deeply competent individual. The paramedic was methodical and had an incredible ‘bedside’ manner. Without missing a beat, she was distracting me from any possible pain and keeping me buoyant throughout our journey to the hospital.

In the days following, I found myself reflecting on how impressed and thankful I was to those two specific people.

Oh, and they managed to save the tip of my finger!

UNAMI MAGWENZI - Australia

I have been pregnant and given birth four times, and each pregnancy has come with its own unique challenges. My last two children were born via Caesarean section and unfortunately, after the birth of my 4th child, I had complications, where I lost a lot of blood and was told I might need an iron infusion. Initially, I managed to remain composed as I trusted that things would improve. However, as the hours passed, and I continued to lose more blood, I began to worry. I didn’t quite know what was happening to my body, but it felt odd. I was in unfamiliar territory and felt like my body was betraying me. I wondered, ‘How have I ended up here, why can I not just have an uneventful pregnancy or delivery?’.

My first pregnancy involved a near-drowning when I was 6 months pregnant, my second one involved the baby being born on the living room floor, my third child was born with parts of her liver outside her body, and now this. The nurses who were attending to me were caring towards me. There was one in particular who took hold of my hand and reassured me that I was going to be okay. Despite the confusion I felt, I held on to her softly spoken and tender words and felt loved by someone who’s name I can’t even recall. That one gesture was special, and it made me appreciate nurses even more. It’s like she knew what I needed in that moment and gave me just the right dose of it.

Take away: You can never underestimate the power of a gesture in feeding someone hope in their time of need. Do not be afraid to speak words of comfort as you may be surprised at how meaningful simple words might be.

SERENE SENG - Singapore

It was a small town in South Korea whose only attraction was tombs. I was with a history geek, so tombs we came to see. How small was the town? We couldn’t find any hotels listed in all the guidebooks, and learned the only bus to town goes once a day and arrives late in the evening. We got on anyway, expecting to find accommodation near the bus station. As we rolled into town, we could see all the shops closed, and no guest houses anywhere. No one at the bus station spoke a word of English. We had nowhere to sleep or eat dinner so we started to wander around hoping for something. Then we saw ‘Tourist Information Centre’.

By now we knew most small Korean towns catered only to domestic travel, so the centre staff likely didn’t speak English either. But we were desperate, so we went in anyway.

There, a young man took one look at us and said, ‘The centre closes in five minutes.’ At this point, we didn’t care how rude it was. We were just ecstatic to find someone who spoke English! We told him we needed a hotel room and dinner. ‘Ok, wait five minutes’, he responded. ‘What?’, we asked, ‘You close in five minutes.’ ‘Yes,’ he said with a smile. So, we awkwardly waited.

After he closed the centre, he took us on foot to a love hotel. Yes, the only hotel in town was a love hotel. Happily, it was a swanky, new, and very stylish love hotel. We checked in while we all pretended not to realise it was a love hotel. The young man was obviously embarrassed he knew it so well. He waited for us, and then walked us to the deserted main street, and up a dark flight of rickety stairs. He pushed open a door that had no signboard, and inside was a deserted dining hall. He spoke in Korean to the lady proprietor and she seated us at a great table and handed us a menu in Korean with no pictures. We looked at the menu; we looked at the lady. The young man joined our table with a smile. ‘What do you want to eat?’ he said. ‘Why don’t you join us for dinner and order for us?’ we invited. He gladly agreed, and we had the most delicious Korean meal we had ever had in our lives. We still talk about it to this day!

We also learnt a lot more about the tombs than any guidebook ever said, as he regaled us with the colourful history of the town. He also gave us directions on how to walk to the tomb. The town was so small, you could get everywhere by walking. When the bill came, our eyes popped at how low it was. Then past midnight, the young man walked us back to our hotel, and we never saw him again.

We’ve travelled for years to many countries, but this was a night we still remember decades later. All because a stranger went out of his way to share a town he knew and loved.

ANUPAMA SINGAL - Singapore

Standing in the shadows of a pillar, I gazed out. A bit amused with my reaction, but also a bit anxious. So much colour was greeting my eyes that I was feeling a bit out of place. I had just walked into my new college in Delhi and was feeling a bit apprehensive if this nerdy engineer would be accepted by a bunch of creative people who were into fashion education.

Having studied in an engineering college for four years, where there were only eleven girls in my batch, I had become accustomed to the ‘typical boys colours’ - whites, blues and greys. It was a real shock to see so much colour, hear so much (feminine) laughter and see happy, smiling faces chatting to each other. I was so engrossed in observing everyone and thinking about which group to walk towards, that I almost jumped out of my skin when I got a light tap on my shoulder.

‘Kya hua? Bahut pareshaan lag rahi ho!’ a lilting voice asked me in Hindi. (‘What happened? You are looking very tense!’)

I just blurted, ‘I am so happy to see so many girls!’

The moment the words left my mouth, I thought how baffled the other girl would be - because this was 25 years ago, and in India, a girl saying she is happy to see so many girls would sound a bit strange to another girl. Rightly so! She immediately stepped back and gave a queer head-to-toe look and said, ‘Really? And WHY is THAT?’

I quickly explained how I had not been used to seeing a lot of girls on campus as I was from an engineering class of 2 girls and 40 boys. Thank God she asked me and I explained because otherwise my happiness at seeing other girls could have been misconstrued.

But, as soon as we started talking, not knowing each other at all and suddenly discussing intimate feelings of joy, apprehension and excitement, without even knowing each other’s names, the feeling that I was going to be being judged fell away. She was so intrigued about my experience of studying in a class of forty boys where she had come from an ‘all-girls’ college’, that we were comparing notes and experiences freely and easily. She told me how, just moments before she noticed me looking tense, she herself had been standing at the same spot looking at the boys and thinking - ‘Thank God! I am finally going to be able to make some boyfriends!’.

We started laughing so much and I felt all my tension dissolve as we properly introduced ourselves and promised to teach each other how to make friends with the gender that we were not used to dealing with. Then, giggling and chatting we walked into the building suddenly feeling more joyful and confident because each of us had found someone we could help and get help from. I am still friends with her and we laugh about how we could have possibly missed having this friendship, had she not approached me.

This is what I feel communication is all about. If we drop the apprehension that someone is going to judge us and just simply share from the heart, reaching out to help someone or make them more comfortable, we may find that the big story we were building up in our head is just that - a story.

ANNA SHEPPARD - Australia

There have been more times than I can count that a stranger has reassured me or shown up with just the right message at the right time. Call it divinity, or call it the final piece of the puzzle, either way, when you start paying attention and countin...