Closed minds don’t get fed. What a profound piece of wisdom. Of all places to have this dropped on me, a sports store in Memphis. Certainly not a place where I expected to be schooled in one of the greatest life lessons I have heard. Sorry Dad, but it’s true. That sales assistant will never know how often I reflect on his guidance. No, it didn’t win him the sale. I was too stunned to speak let alone shop. I forgot why I was there. Start at the beginning. What was I doing in Memphis? I was there for a good friend’s wedding. How did I end up at a shopping mall? I was looking for a bowtie. Why was I in a sports store then? Well I had purchased my bow tie, navy blue with little brown dogs wearing bowties. Don’t ask me what was on the bowtie the dog was wearing. Probably a human wearing a bowtie. And on that bowtie? Bowtie inception. Anyway, I was in the sports store for a very specific reason. I was searching for a new flat cap, complete with gold sticker you never remove. This is almost akin to buying red chinos in Italy. Just because the Italians do it, doesn’t mean you should.
scared and pasty
As I skirted my way around the shop, trying not to look like a pasty Australian looking for a flat cap, I realised that’s exactly what I was. All that was standing between me and the wall of flat caps, was the shop assistant. Hesitantly I looked up, as he approached. “Hey man, can I help you out?” I find it to be such a strange and perplexing quirk, walking into a shop, trying to avoid the shop assistant. Especially if I have never set foot in that store. Why are you asking me that? Can’t you see I know how to shop. That assistant should get back to doing their job, assisting customers who clearly need the help. I look around, there is nobody else in the store. Shit, how do I answer?
just browsing
Often, you can skirt around the question, especially in a store that is outside your home turf. You simply smile and reply, “No thanks, just browsing”. At which point, heart rate rising, you briskly circle the store and exit. Sure, you may look stupid as you duck walk empty handed from the store, but you take solace in the knowledge they will never see you again. Alas, in this instance, the “just browsing” approach could be risky. I wanted something. I could see it. The shop assistant was the obstacle I needed to negotiate.
you know why I am here
I am not sure why, but I find answering the question as to whether I need help, more embarrassing to answer when I do know what I want. Why? If I say yes and tell them what I want, then they’ll know what I am here for. I simply cannot have that. The problem is worse when you are shopping for your wife. Bags, perfume, jewellery, lingerie – although you do need to be careful when saying you are just browsing as you hold a pair of lingerie to your chest. It’s 2020 so I guess nothing is unexpected, but no the lingerie was not for me. Still, what a ridiculous frame of mind. Maybe I am the only weird one that thinks this way (not the lingerie bit, the closed mind thing).
oven lightbulb moment
On reflection, I am not sure where this aversion to be helped comes from? Maybe, it’s a desire to show independence, resilience or courage. I don’t need your help, I’m an independent Man. I can tie my own shoe-laces and I drink craft beer. It’s even worse when I go to Bunnings. Something in me is determined not to ask for assistance. Of course, I know my way around a hardware store. It’s logical. An hour later and a trolley full of things I don’t need or don’t even know how to use, I still haven’t found what it was I was looking for. That’s right, a light bulb for the oven. Here’s a light bulb moment for you, why don’t you just ask for help? Closed minds don’t get fed, although I am pretty sure the oven still works without a light.
hammed up
That aside, going back to the sales assistant from Memphis. How did I respond? Too embarrassed by my desire for a New England Patriots flat cap, I responded to his question “Na mate, all good”. I was hoping the hammed up Australian accent would disarm him, leaving me to exit the store in peace. His response hit me like a tonne of bricks. “Alright man, but remember, closed minds don’t get fed”. In that split second, thanks to his simple, observant and fundamental insight, he managed to pin-point a huge insecurity, one that I think is far too common in today’s ever connected society. The fear of looking stupid, asking the wrong question or embarrassing ourselves in front of a stranger. It’s about being vulnerable enough to say, I have no idea what I am doing could you please show me the way. We forget to realise that we aren’t all knowing or all wise. We are all prone to make the same “dumb” mistakes as everyone else.
tweed jacket rant
Being closed minded doesn’t just stop at being vulnerable enough to ask for help. It extends to the questions we ask, the type of thinking we adopt, the people we hang out with, the choices we make. Now I am really ranting, but I will rant on, nonetheless. Here’s an analogy, try to follow along. Most of this closed mindedness is just fear wrapped up in an old tweed jacket. We dress it up and pretend we are somehow different, progressive and free thinking. When we become challenged, beyond our comfort zone, resistance and anxiety begin to stretch the seams. Sometimes the seams stretch so much, holes appear. So, we patch the elbows. Not with the same tweed but a nice tan brown. We wear these like scars and soon more and more patches appear until the tweed is covered over.
saved from myself
Maybe that is what the sales assistant saw, when he looked at me. An old tweed jacket covered in patches, trying to hide themselves but pretending to be open minded. Have I lost you yet? I think what I am trying to say is most of us operate in comfort zones. Secretly, we love familiarity and predictability. It’s safe. We can keep our status in-tact without ever revealing who we truly are. And so, I left the store, without my flat cap. On reflection, this secondary benefit, that is not purchasing a flat cap, was probably almost as beneficial to my personal development as the mind-jarring wisdom of the shop assistant.
stupidity and bowties
It has been three years since that interaction, so why reflect now? Well, I’ve just come off a period of serious shopping through the holiday period and those words of wisdom still feel fresher and more applicable than ever. It has changed my philosophy. I am not just referring to flat caps, men’s fashion and shopping. But to the more mundane interactions in life and how we can find pockets of wisdom in the smallest of daily exchanges. Each of us has a story to tell, lessons we can share and lessons we can learn. We only need to open our minds. Asking questions, seeking help, being vulnerable and overcoming a fear of looking stupid. For me, this blog is the perfect example of the latter. And so I am left to ask, what kind of person would I be if I had that cap? Certainly not the kind of person who wears a navy-blue bowtie with brown dogs, the dogs also wearing bowties.