Favors

I am always a bit surprised when someone asks of me a favor. Of course, first I am always taken aback that someone would actually request something—anything—of me. Somehow, this demand seems like an ill-mannered strategy to impose a burden on someone else. I know, I know, this feeling is all about me and nothing about the real world. I know, I know, we live in this world together, and for survival must (even relievedly and happily) depend on each other. Clearly, somewhere and somehow I learned that it is bad form, if not bad behavior, to ask anyone to do anything for me, even if what must be accomplished is not at all possible for me to do. Should I bee brash enough to ask someone to do something for me? And admit some need and inadequacy and dependence? Hah, not likely!

On the other hand, the shock of the request derives not only from the request, but from the idea that someone actually thinks well enough of me to ask for the favor in the first place. To ask of me a favor speaks of some confidence in me, which surpasses even that which I have in myself.

And yet, paradoxically, I have grown into a philosophy which commands others to command me. I want to be made responsible that I can grow in my responsibility.

Ask me for a favor? The nerve!!

Ask me for a favor!! Please?