I’m on the bus to work. That dulling pain is quietly thumping. A lady sits down next to me. I wonder if she can tell I’m in pain? I wonder if she is pain as well. I wonder if she’s in more pain?! I can’t tell, I can only guess.
An old lady walks onto the bus. She seems really fragile and very tired and very very tiny. I realize I still have my youth. I still have my whole life ahead of me. That’s just so exciting, the thought of that. I wonder what pains that old lady has been through in her lifetime?
Uh oh. I wonder … when I was happy and carefree, I must not have noticed people’s pain. I wonder how many people I’ve passed by in the last few years who were struggling through a break up or a divorce or other horrible things, while I was happily chatting with my boyfriend over the phone, or was walking hand in hand along the streets. I never have been so sensitive to their feelings till now. And even if its not this type of pain, what about losing a loved one? Visiting a relative or a child that’s deemed terminal in the hospital? Losing all their life’s savings and unemployed, not knowing where to go from there? It could be lady who’s sitting next to me. Everyone is fighting a battle.
Kinda like that “state of being” concept. Being in pain is also a state of being. You can’t usually tell a person is in extreme heartache just by passing them by. (I’m excluding people who are crying or wincing in pain.) I look at all the people on the bus and the bikers on the streets next to the bus, the pedestrians who are walking along the side walk. We can’t see each other’s pain, but they are all probably struggling through something, some have more pain than others. My pain suddenly seems tiny in comparison. The world is not rose colored.
I always thought it was.
I now realize how wrong I was, and how naive.