Friday, April 6, 2012

Mr. Fix-It

I'm not a techy; I can't fix your computer. I don't know how to deal with a Blue Screen of Death, I can't get your Skype cam working (or my own for that matter), I don't know how to get into your e-mail. I can't fix home stuff either. I don't know how to cook that well, I would probably struggle changing a fuse, I have no idea how to repair a roof. Honestly, I can't fix a lot of things, (I'm rather worried what I'll be like on my own). Yet there even with my technical failings, there is still a drive I have. It doesn't revolve around the physical, like computers or home repair, but a little deeper.

I always want to fix other people's problems.

I get this desire to be able to reach out to someone and help them past their problems. If it's school work, I want to offer advise on how to work better. If it's people, I want to give opinions on what to say or do. Heck, even in video games I want to make the choices that help my ally characters. Games like Dragon Age have me agonizing over what ways I could help my party members. That might show me as a bit more neurotic than is probably healthy, but it underlines my point. I want to help people.

It bugs me that I can't as well. I might see someone that I only marginally know and they might just look dejected or sad, and I get this drive to help. I want to be able to reach out and let them know that it is all right, that I can help them. I know it sounds arrogant, but the goal isn't to show how they need me in their lives, but to let them know that whatever it is that they are dealing with, someone is there to help them through.

The reason this comes up is twofold. The first is that I started reading through a "visual novel" (a very Japanese kind of computer 'game' that is mostly text with a few distinct choices all in all) and the characters are all burdened with their own problems. While the story follows through the main character, who is not really the player, we get to see how he interacts with the other characters and helps them, or doesn't. Reading that, I can't help but think how I would want to react and help. The only reason I picked up on this idea in this type of game is because the preset story and dialogues don't usually fit how I would handle a situation. I make a few choices, maybe ten in total, but how they play out is strictly in the mind of the central character and his personality rather than my own. I want to help in my own way, but the story doesn't lend itself to such freewheeling.

The second reason for this comes simply though the society that college seems to be for me. Maybe it's something about the Christian community, or maybe it has something do with my place as lounge furniture, but I find I hear about and see people and their problems. I might walk in on someone crying in the prayer chapel, or over hear two people hashing out a tough issue. Whatever the case, when I hear these things or see others in a state of distress, my heart goes out to them.

Maybe this is just your stereotypical guy mentality. Something wrong? Must fix! But I hate to think that what I'm feeling is just base instinct. I'm not moved to solve a problem; I'm driven to help someone. That's the desire, to help. I want to help people, to be their personal life Mr. Fix-It and give them a solution so that they aren't burdened anymore. I know that isn't what people need. Some people need to try it on their own, some just need someone to talk to (I make a great sounding board as well, might get into that another week), some people need to go break balloon animals in half with caramelized steak. I'm not one to judge people's coping mechanisms.

I suppose this overly-drawn-out series of poorly joined paragraphs is a build-up to say that: someday, in our interactions, I may try to help you solve a problem. This isn't me imposing on your life, or trying to be the hero your life deserves, it's me having a desire to help you not be burdened anymore. If you need someone to help you, come to me and I would be glad to do whatever I can. Your problems aren't a burden to me, and even if I can't help, I'll be there to listen.

Just don't ask me to fix your toaster; I'll short out the whole state.

Just something to chew on.

No comments:

Post a Comment