I took my son to a cardiologist this morning. It's not the first time
I've done so, nor will it be the last. My son has a congenital heart
defect virtually identical to the one that took the life of his older
brother at birth, twenty years ago. But unlike his older brother's,
the defect in Nathaniel's heart is mild requiring nothing more than a
visit to his doctor every two years. In time as he grows and changes
that may change as well. The day may come when he needs significant
intervention including open heart surgery to replace the unruly
valve. But not today. Today he is an active and vociferous ten year
old.
When we finished at the doctor my husband and I took Nathaniel out
for a little snack at a nearby Caribou. Sitting there watching him my
vision changed, just for a moment, and I realized something, looking
at this sparkly eyed creature in front of me. In the book of his
life, through those mischievous brown eyes and the spirit behind
them, we are but the supporting cast and he is the main character.
And then, looking around the coffee shop I held that thought about
each of the people I saw. The brand new mother at the table next to
me holding an infant so small it could hardly have been real. And the
baby itself, his little mouth pursed in contentment as his eyes slid
with baby like slowness around the room. The older couple, well
dressed, who seemed to hold each other in an awareness that didn't
allow for the rest of us. The barista behind the counter. The man
with the computer at the other end of the store and the moms with a
couple of small girls seated not too far from him. Behind me were two
women studying what looked to be a nursing textbook. Each of them
unique never to be repeated or replaced beings. Each of them the main
character in the book of their lives. And we, the others in the
coffee shop, simply supporting cast, perhaps not even that, perhaps
only extras, there to fill the space as they did whatever it was they
came to do at a coffee shop on a brisk October morning.
As we got up to leave I said to my son and my husband, "Say goodbye
to all these people, we'll never see them again." And they, my son
and my husband, looked at me as if I was a bit off and laughed and
rolled their eyes at me. But it's true. We may cross paths with these
people again, but it's unlikely. And, even if we do neither of us is
going to remember a brief shared time at a coffee house somewhere in
suburbia.
But each person leaving that coffee shop today will continue to write
the book of his or her life. Each will continue to play out the role
of the main character, telling the story from his or her point of
view as the years unfold and life moves forward. And each of us will
simultaneously play supporting roles and the parts of extras in the
books of many others at the same time we are writing our own stories.
Each of those roles interconnected with the lives and stories and
roles of the people around us whose lives we touch. Even if only for
a moment.
And in all that, when we really examine it, we must come to profound
realization of how much we are all alike in our humanness. We live,
we love, we laugh, we cry. Our experiences are universal. Some of us
are heroes, some are villains, and many are somewhere in between. But
we are completely and without reservation human. It is only when we
recognize that we are all the same that we can begin the quest for an
intentionally ethical lifestyle. When we see that others are the main
character of their own story we can afford them the honor and the
dignity that is their due simply by virtue of our shared humanity.
When we can see that – when we can look around a coffee shop or a
playground, or an online community and we can see each person's story
as unique and extraordinary we can move outside ourselves to a place
of profound respect. This is what SYMC seeks to do in our work with
infidelity. See that each person in the triangle plays a leading
role. And that each individual is uniquely and completely human with
all the tendencies toward good and evil that each of us carries. Each
person in the triangle laughs and cries, loves and hates, hurts and
is hurt in return. And each person writes the story of the affair
from his or her point of view. When we honor that, and only then, can
we reach out with love and compassion to each of the members of the
triangle. We can only talk about ethics and harming none when we
carry a deep respect for the person whom we are confronting,
comforting, or advising.
An oft quoted directive says, "Do unto others as you would have them
do unto you." And yet, that doesn't adequately address an internal
drive to honor another. That statement is about us – about what we
would like, or not like as the case may be, rather than about an
objective respect for another. If, therefore, I like being laughed at
I would base my decision on whether to laugh at someone else on my
feelings or wishes. But, if instead, I take the position of "harming
none" I am forced to look beyond myself, my likes and dislikes, and
toward the better good of those around me.
If I avoid conflict at all costs, a dangerous game in marriage, I
might assume that it is best to allow others to play the same
avoidance game. I would be doing unto another as I would like done
unto me. But avoiding conflict is harmful in the long run. In order
to search for a truly ethical position on any subject we must first
recognize the spark that exists in all of us and then seek a way to
honor each that spark as we honor our own.
Will our book, the story of our own life portray us as a hero? A
villain? A person to admire or to fear? The answer to that lies in
how we touch the lives of the others within that story. Do we hold
the vision of respect and dignity in highest regard? Do we seek
choices and solutions that are only for the better good? If so then
although we will certainly need to make difficult choices and take
unpopular actions when all is said and done and the final page is
turned we can only inspire respect and honor in those whose stories
will follow.
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