Surviving The Fall, 54

I think that one of the hardest and most bitter truths for some of us to swallow is how alike we all are. I mean, despite social class, economic differences; despite race, gender, nationality. We are all the same DNA, with only the vaguest variations. This has been one of the more startling findings from mapping the human genome: that race accounts for absolutely no significant difference between human beings. Our differences, such as they are, are merely superficial, given to hereditary glitches influenced by climate and geographic isolation and inbreeding. I see this day after day in my work. I remember recently talking with a coworker, rather highly placed professional, going through a difficult and prolonged personal crisis. Even though my professional status is considerably lower than his, I was still taken into his confidence, and my counsel, experience and wisdom seemed welcome and greatly appreciated. There was no noticeable difference between my colleague's experience of stress and angst and what some of our clients have to go through. It is like this everywhere. When I walk by someone begging on the sidewalk, even if I am unable to help, I can at least remember that we are no different. We are the same people. I was once myself homeless and in extreme distress and vulnerability. I never ended up begging, but on one occasion a fellow who was panhandling gave me permission to sit with him for a while as he begged for alms. It was a startling experience, seeing life from his part of the pavement. It is impossible to describe. But we were there together, brothers in need, though I didn't take any money with me, for I only wanted to know what he was experiencing. This will live with me for the rest of my life. On a couple of other occasions, shortly after, I did sit on the sidewalk and watched and waited as people walked by me. It was odd and something indescribable looking up at all those passing feet and legs and averted eyes. I don't often give to panhandlers. My budget is extremely limited. From time to time I do help, maybe with a toonie, or with food, but what matters isn't so much what is given or received, but what is understood. We are all alike, and in a way, we are not only similar and not only are we the same people. We are the same person. Yes, our experience is going to be unique, alone and individual, but we need to somehow grow beyond that. I think this is the essential, necessary step beyond empathy. We are the same person. Gentle Reader, try this, please. When you are out in public, and some stranger does something that really annoys you, be it a careless driver, cyclist or pedestrian, say this to yourself immediately: we, you and I, are the same person. If you are on the bus, and a stranger sits next to you, regardless their race, gender, economic status, age or smell, say to yourself, "We, you and I, are the same person." The next time you see someone adhering to a religious faith, or a political party or philosophy with which you sharply disagree, say to yourself, immediately, "We, you and I, are the same person." Whether it's a child, a youth, an adult, a senior, whether this person is a white Canadian, Asian, African, Latino or South Asian or Aboriginal, even if it's someone whom you feel you have every right to hate, even if it's Donald Trump, say those words and say them with conviction and force: 'We, you and I, are the same person." In a store while making a purchase, or in a coffee shop while giving your order to the barista, say those words to yourself, and even dare to say it to the other: "We, you and I, are the same person." Bless you, Gentle Reader, and do not forget this essential truth, that "We, you and I, are the same person."