As I drive west in the evening I admire the red orange sun making its last decent behind a mountain. At the same instant, it is possible that a person driving east may enjoy the birth of the full moon rising above leafy trees. Even if we travel together in the same direction, the sun may feel inviting to one yet glaring to the passenger. The moon may inspire wonder to one yet evoke loneliness to another.
No matter what stimulus confronts us, it is difficult for us to share the same experience simultaneously. How wonderful it is when we laugh, are in awe, or contemplate in unison. How beautiful the instant we collide into another’s universe like the notes of a symphony. We must relish these moments.
Every day, how many times have we misinterpreted rudeness for kindness, selfishness for generosity, or fear for courage? And why is it so difficult for us to agree on what we have experienced? Why does a particular image or sound bring joy to one and sadness to another? The answers to these questions continue to haunt and elude me. For now, during those rare occasions when we see eye to eye, I suggest we say, “I am glad you were here to experience this with me.”