try to see what they see. i glanced back over what i’ve written the last week: about trying to see eye to eye, about assuming awe, about being relentless in a life that isn’t simply black and white, about being brave. is it possible to write too many words about the importance of empathy? the importance of trying to walk in another’s shoes to really understand their circumstance, their joy, their plight, their challenge? because it’s easy to forget, i never feel like i can be reminded enough; it’s always hard to remember my perspective is different than any-other-person’s-on-earth. sometimes it’s laden with stuff. it’s all so complicated.
when dogdog was little we were astounded by his exuberant joy. he was always bounding, seemingly ever hopeful. he still is. i’ve written about what his take on the world looks like to us; i’ve written about what babycat’s take on the world looks like to us. they look forward and see possibility, without the capacity to mull all the looking-backwards-stuff over in their brains.
we surround ourselves with wonderful pets who unconditionally love us. all of us who have dogs or cats -or any pet- we adore know this; people who dedicate time or their lives to keeping animals safe – like aly, a veterinarian, or jen, who has spent lots of time volunteering at humane societies and sanctuaries, or my sister, who just adopted a puppy-she-wasn’t-expecting…we all know this. they see us like no one else. and they are part of us in ways not easy to express in words. they aren’t looking at us with prejudice or judgement, emotional baggage or elitist measurements of value. they simply expect the best and somehow they find it in the very next moment. they find it in each moment. they clearly know something we don’t know. they don’t need to walk in another’s shoes. they just look forward and trust. it’s simple for them.
for us? we can stand to be in those other shoes AND to look forward. we can try to see what they see.
try to see what they see ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood