Sometimes Jean-Paul Sartre’s famous adage, “Hell is other people”, rings true. Last Saturday expressed this seeming truth to me. Throughout the day I was getting phone calls, text messages, emails, work assignments and calls for help around the house. The outside world seemed to be stripping me of all my freedom. I started the weekend with my own agenda and everything seemed to be getting in the way. My desire for complete control of my circumstances in line with my projected idea of how the day would turn out didn’t seem to be a possibility unless I wanted to be a jerk to everyone. Retreat to either the local Starbucks or my room seemed to be the only escape option. However, I wanted to play basketball and not just shooting hoops by myself, but a basketball
game! This meant that I was going to have to take back my insistent cri de cœur to my family that ‘hell is other people’ and ask someone if they wanted to play a game. So, I hesitatingly asked my dad, “Dad, even though ‘hell is other people’, can you play basketball with me?”