It is impossible for me to see through your eyes. I cannot feel or touch what you feel or touch. I do know my wife smiled as the rose stem slid into the holder. No one else was there to experience it. She was not looking into a mirror at the time, so she did not see her own smile. From my point of view, there was no one else in the world that saw what I saw.
Albert Einstein said, “I know the moon exists, even when I do not see it.” Or does it?
Did my wife see the smile on my face at the same time? Did she notice one of the rose petals tumble to the wooden table by the napkin?
The point is that we do not live in a single universe, but many universes. At the same moment, I’m certain a homeless person in New York appreciated the attention of a passerby just before a few green bills were stuffed into his cup. I’m certain a child in a distant city was in awe of a gathering of pigeons that took flight from under his feet. I’m certain that somewhere a person was gazing into the night sky, wondering about his origins.
The previous examples are positive and inspiring. In our lives, we see and hear what we want to see and hear.
I wasn’t concerned my wine splashed on the sleeve of my suit.
I didn’t hear the grumbling of the adjacent table complaining about the slow service.
I wasn’t upset that the bill was higher than usual.
From the words of my dear friend, Radha Martinez, “Fabulous is where you look for it.”