I tend to live in a Pollyanna bubble of sorts. Yes, I'm aware that there is tragedy and trauma in the world, but I am fortunate enough in my little corner of it that I'm almost entirely surrounded by the good and the beautiful and the happy , or at least that's how it looks through my rose-colored glasses. Every now and again, though, I see something or hear something that flips the curtain to reveal another view that makes me see things differently and make my heart ache...
A young woman is walking down the side of a very public, very busy, multi-lane street near downtown. She is walking the same way that I am driving, so I am approaching her from the rear. It's a cold winter's day, but she's wearing a thin white cotton summer dress and tennis shoes, although she does have an appropriate jacket.
As I approach, I notice that she appears to have soiled herself. I suppose it's possible that she fell into a mud puddle or something, but the stain is rather localized. She is carrying herself as though she is unaware of anything amiss - head erect, eyes focused straight ahead, gait steady. My thoughts run something like this: "Oh no! What happened? Does she know? Does she care? Where did she come from? Where is she going? Does she need help? Should I stop?"
I don't stop, I don't help (I am somewhat ashamed to admit), but I can't stop thinking about her. It occurred to me at the time that she did, in fact, know of her condition, but was pretending otherwise in an attempt to maintain some semblance of dignity. Still, the questions continued to come: Does she have a safe place to live? Somewhere to go to get clean and dry? What transpired to cause her dilemma? Did someone abuse her in some way? Is she dealing with substance abuse and truly tuned out of herself? I don't know any of these anwers, but she breaks my heart...
An elderly gentleman is standing at the end of a driveway, talking to himself. At his feet is a small suitcase. In his hands is a suit on a hanger, uncovered and flapping gently in the breeze. Who is he waiting for? Is he going somewhere happy, or are they taking him to an institution of some sort? Why isn't he waiting inside where it's warm? No answers, and only speculation... He's probably fine, but he's given me a glimpse into other, more disturbing possibilities...
I'm driving home after an errand. As I pull away from the light and start my turn left, I hear someone screaming: "You almost hit me, you (insert string of expletives here)!" And the shouting and berating continues - and I can hear it - as I turn down the street and continue on my way. In my rear-view mirror I see the screamer leaning out the window of a van, and the victim of his tirade is a young woman in a sedan alongside, looking more than a little scared.
It was disturbing enough that I was almost in tears. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I knew exactly how that young woman felt. Having been at the receiving end of verbal abuse for many years, I recognize it and empathize with it a little too readily. (I had the same reaction when I watched the Julia Roberts film Sleeping With the Enemy, although her case was significantly more drastic than mine) Alongside my sympathy for the abused young lady, it also occurred to me to wonder what was going on in the life of that young man to fill him with such rage. That played into my churned-up emotions, as well.
None of these scenarios has anything to do with me - directly - but as a member of society and part of that larger organism that is our humanity and our world, I am wounded nonetheless. I feel a bit of helplessness and a bit of loss and more than a bit of sadness. I'm wondering if I'm noticing these things lately because I am supposed to look for some answers to them. If I'm supposed to think about them and write about them and share them to create awareness and find like-minded souls who can join with me to contribute to the greater good.
Right now, in this minute, I have no answers, but the questions will not go away...
