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| Image: Madison |
Just the other day, I was wondering how and in what ways our humanity is shared, if at all it is. As we traverse life, do we do so solely through our own experiences and consciousness or is there a way we are connected to and through the experiences of others.
I considered
how diverse our lives can be; how different and yet how similar human
experiences are. I considered the extremes present in our world, poles of
wealth, health, well-being, opportunities, exposure, intellect, understanding,
sanity and even consciousness. I thought about how these contrasts don’t always
exist in opposite ends of the world, oftentimes they subsist side by side, on
different sides of a city or a street, or even within a family.
It made me
wonder how much impact our circumstances have on how we experience the world,
how we live out our lives. Are the experiences of the elite so far placed from
those of the down trodden? Those of the
powerful from the weak? Those of the learned from those of the ignorant? Surely
the range of emotions these different groups undergo must be radically
disparate; shouldn’t they be?
And yet
throughout history, we have found many moments that inextricably bind us
together. Even when we may not have experienced it before; we feel what someone
else is going through, we empathise.
Contemporary
consumerism will suggest many things that should make us stand out, to be
different and unique, feeding off many of the same insecurities, fears,
ambitions, desires, dreams and hopes that many of us have. It seems to me then
that we are just numerous parts of one humongous entity called humankind, where
no one is really by himself, but part of a larger organism or organ or system,
like neurons firing off tirelessly in the nervous system; useless alone but
finding meaning only as functioning parts of the whole.
Can we really do without each other, even
when we don’t depend on each other? Even if for vanity sake alone, for is it
not lack that validates the exuberance of wealth or would the rich still feel
as rich if there was no dearth from which to draw a contrast? Or would the learned still feel as
knowledgeable in the absence of bountiful ignorance? Is disposition not an offspring
of the vicissitudes of life?
Yet, regardless of station, all destinies
seem to be intimately linked; bound throughout the ages in the infinite symphony
of life; unfolding in cycles as we contemplate our existence. We are
responsible for each other whether we like it or not, we are responsible to
each other, whether we accept it or not; all of us, tiny specs on fate’s
radar.
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