One day I was walking down a sidewalk and rammed right into a man. I didn't stop or apologize. I didn't even realize it had happened until I was a block away...and I ran into him hard enough to stumble. I turned then, but he was too far away to run after and offer an apology at that point and seemed unfazed. I kept walking.
It was February 13th, 2014. I know the date not because of my rudeness, but because it was the day they confirmed Orion had trisomy 18 and was going to die soon. He died in the early hours of the next morning, in fact. I had just left the hospital and we were stopping for lunch and my mind was swirling in chaos and grief and racing to think of some way to save my son. I could feel him kicking as I walked down the sidewalk and it just didn't make any sense that I would never have a hope of hearing him cry. I could feel him! He was there, kicking away in my belly, alive!
But I failed to see anyone around me. The man I ran into clings to my memory and I hope I never forget the lesson: it was a day I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I literally didn't SEE another human being. And no matter how justified my pain was, it still doesn't make it okay to not see another human standing there.
The thing is, I do this all the time. We all do. We have a bad day, we get frightening news, we are grieving, we are stressed about money or love or loneliness or work or the kids or the asshole who cut us off while driving...and we get so wrapped up in our own pain that we stop seeing the people around us. We hurt them accidentally, usually in little ways. And its not okay. We can do better. I can do better. I can look up from my own hurt long enough to see the man on the sidewalk. Maybe he was texting, or hunched down in the bitter cold wind, or just got bad news of his own. Maybe it was the best day of his life.
I can look up from my grief long enough to see a frustrated toddler who needs my attention. I can look up from my fatigue long enough to see a beautiful smiling baby. I can look up from my fears long enough to see a husband who loves me but doesn't know how to reach me anymore. I can look up from my own concerns long enough to see that everyone else out there has a million things going on too and maybe they just need a smile, or someone to not bump into them, or someone to hold the door for them or offer a kind word or a hug or patients or forgiveness or love. I fear that we are living in a time of disconnectedness, of electronics replacing human touch, of a strange illness of entitlement where no one else even exists enough to have feelings or needs or rights. Where we don't have a duty to care for each other in big and small ways, to care for our loved ones, and to care for strangers. Where people brag about their selfishness with pride.
Don't be like I was...don't be so wrapped up in yourself that you can't even see the people around you. Open your eyes with a sense of curiosity and compassion, no matter how hard your day is. And be willing to forgive the rudeness of a stranger...you never know what kind of day they might be having.
I'm going to try to do a little better by my fellow humans each day...I'm a work in progress, but I hope you'll join me.
