One of the first “complex” thoughts I can remember having, when I was small, was wondering about other people’s experience.
What would it be like to be her? Or him? Or that person, over there?
If I could magically be transported into another person’s experience, what would the differences be ? Would it be startlingly different? Similar?
And I realized, back then, I’ll never know, for sure.
But I’m still curious.
And I’m conscious of that inescapable limitation — of never really knowing another person’s experience — and how it naturally colors everything I perceive.
I’m grateful that I get to witness, every day, people doing the best they can — despite those limitations — to understand somebody else well enough, in order to connect in some way.
Each day, I witness that urge to connect with other people, with other creatures, with some experience of beauty, and with attempts to make meaning.
I experience that here, in the blogosphere, and there, in the non-blogosphere.
They help, I think.
Whether it’s connecting because of a beloved local sports figure:
Or, connecting because of a shared moment of whimsy:
I have no idea who placed that bird on that plant outside my office, but I’m so glad that person is out there (having his or her own experience).
Thanks to Carl Yastrzemski, to fans of all kinds, and to you, for experiencing this post today.
Like you, I have wanted to understand other people’s experiences — and come to realize, all I can do is stay open, and non-judgemental, of how their experience is expressed in the world.
I can’t walk in your shoes, but I sure can walk beside you — and I’m loving this journey of walking with you here.