On being … a lasting impression

By Ingrid Sapona 

As adults, we move in a lot of different circles – professional, social, within family groups, etc. We often cultivate a profile within certain groups. For example, in their professional life, some work at being seen for their expertise, or for being reliable, or thorough, or good at putting people together. In other settings, while we might not intentionally cultivate a reputation, we may end up with one. For example, in my family, I tend to stay in touch with folks and so I’m kind of known as the one to ask what the cousins are up to. And sometimes people remember us for the things we enjoy. For example, if someone’s invited you to dinner and you know they’re a chocoholic, choosing what to bring as a thank you is a no-brainer. 

I was reminded this past week of how we end up being thought of – and remembered – when I read the obituary of a former work colleague. Besides being saddened to learn of her death at just 73, the notice was a beautiful summary of the many different things she was known for. Her impressive professional accomplishments were mentioned, but her many passions – the things I think she thought of as defining her – took centre stage. While some of our work colleagues might have been surprised to read of her passion for pie baking, I wasn’t. I fondly remember discussions we had about whether the perfect peach pie is double crust or lattice-topped. 

Word of her passing also brought to mind a comment she made to me when we first met. It was an offhand comment that made me feel I might not fit in to the department we worked in. Given that we got along professionally and socially after that, I don’t think her intention was to make me feel wary. Indeed, I doubt she would have even remembered saying it – and yet it’s something I’d never forgotten. It’s funny the things that stick with us. 

A few days ago, I got a snail mail birthday card from an out-of-town friend. It featured a tongue-in-cheek commentary about marking birthdays – it was a hoot. In the card she wished me well and added that every day she thinks of me as she tries to master my “shoe/sock balancing routine”. I honestly had NO idea what she was talking about. Not only that, she mentioned that she still envies my “quick work of that trick”. What trick, I thought. 

We were university roommates and so I scoured my memory bank to think of what she might possibly be referring to. Absolutely nothing came to mind. The more I re-read the card, the more convinced I was that she must have been thinking of someone else. Still, it bothered me because I wondered if I was oblivious to impressions I leave or if she was just mistaken. 

Finally, I decided to email her to ask. I confessed I had no idea what she was talking about. She responded promptly. It turns out, it wasn’t some long-ago deed – it was from the last time I visited her. She explained that as I was putting on my sneakers (which I’d left near the door) I did one shoe at a time, balancing on the opposite leg as I tied the laces. 

She explained in her email: “You were like a stork balancing yourself while putting on the shoes. Kinda … Zen. I recall offering you a chair, but you were about keeping/retaining your balance while doing this daily task.” Ahhh… that makes sense. Balance has always been something I’ve worked to maintain and I imagine we talked about that as I was getting ready to leave. 

These two odd anecdotes drove home to me the idea that human interactions are rather unpredictable. Sometimes we work at honing a reputation and making an impression and then other times we say or do something that seems quite incidental to us but that leaves a lasting impression on others. Given this, I guess the best we can hope is that others will accept us for who we are.   

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona

 

 

On being … out of practice

By Ingrid Sapona 

One of the things I’ve been thinking about this week is the idea that something that was second nature can be hard to get back to if you’ve been away. As I’m sure you’ll realize in short order, one of the things I’m referring to is getting back to writing this column. 

Being surprised at being out of practice came to mind the other day on a walk. During Covid, when everything – including the gym in my condo – was closed, I got in the habit of taking long walks. (Like many, I bought into the 10,000 steps idea.) I’ve continued with them and I especially like early morning walks because that means that by 9 or 9:30, I feel I’ve accomplished something for the day. 

The other morning the sky was blue, the sidewalks looked dry, and Google told me the temperature was something like 22℉. Perfect, I thought, as I hit play on the audiobook on my phone and slipped it into my jacket pocket. Heading out the door, the nip in the air made me pull my zipper up as far as it would go and tuck my gloves into my sleeves. I was engrossed in the story I was listening to but about 5 minutes into the walk I thought, “Holy … it’s cold out here”! As is my usual, I didn’t have a hat or scarf with me and my jacket, though down, was light and short. I quickly realized it was the wind that I hadn’t accounted for. Though I wasn’t that far from home, I wasn’t about to turn around. I told myself that it was probably just a wind tunnel effect and that as soon as I turned the corner, it would be better. 

The wind never died and it was a darned cold walk. When I got home, I had a cup of tea and chided myself for forgetting what winter is like. A good reminder to check the wind chill, not just the temperature! A couple days later it was snowing and I had to go out. As I was getting ready, I realized I was a bit nervous, wondering if I had forgotten how to drive in snow. I’m relieved to report that I didn’t re-live the spin-out I did during my first Buffalo blizzard when I was 17 years old! So, I think I’ve now reacquainted myself with what it takes to get through winter in a northern clime. 

As far as getting back into writing the column after a lovely holiday where the worries of the world seemed far away, I truly am at a loss. Though I do comment on world events from time-to-time, On being… it’s not meant to be about politics. And yet, I feel so preoccupied with worry and fear about what’s going on, I find there’s little else on my mind. And based on conversations with friends and acquaintances, it seems I’m not alone. 

It's also true that I can’t bring myself to write about what’s unfolding as a result of Trump’s re-election because I fear I have a more negative outlook than many. I don’t have a reserve of optimism, either deep or shallow. (Yes, there’s always the judiciary… but what happens when court orders are ignored?) To the extent any readers feel democracy will win out, all I can say is I have no deeper hope than that you – and Martin Luther King – are right about the arc of the moral universe and the way it bends. 

Hopefully in the coming few weeks I’ll return to reflecting on more personal things and I’ll be able to write a proper On being… In the meanwhile, check the wind chill before you go out, and dress appropriately. 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona