Walk a Mile

"A middle-aged man attended a male therapy support group one evening when he felt he was at his lowest ebb. His wife was leaving him. His business was teetering near bankruptcy. He had gained weight over the last few years and his self-esteem wasn’t very high. Even his hair was thinning. The moderator explained that they would go around in a circle and each man would take a few minutes to explain what wasn’t working in his life. On the second round, they would discuss what they were going to do to change it. The middle-aged man listened patiently as each of the other members spoke.
When it came time for him to unburden himself, he knew that his was one of the saddest stories there. A secret part of him felt almost proud to be so pathetic. As they continued around the circle, he found himself trying to second guess why each man had come and then he noticed that the last person in the circle was a handsome young man about twenty years old. Why, he thought, would such a young man be here? The youngster’s face looked sympathetic as he nodded at each person’s story. When the time came for him to speak, he was smiling. “My friends,” he said almost wistfully, “I have been diagnosed with terminal cancer.” The gasp was audible in the room. “My doctors have given me three to six months to live. I have struggled with this for a month now and have finally made a decision.”
His voice gained self-confidence as it grew. “I am going to take up flying lessons.” The words hung in the air. Flying lessons? “I have chosen to live.” Flying lessons! The middle-aged man drew in his breath. His mind flew over all of the imaginary reasons he had created for this young man to have spoken, realizing each of them had been trite and pretentious next to the reality of his plight. Then his thoughts rested, for the first time without self-pity, on his own small problems. He felt almost ashamed. The boy was dying. He would not even get a chance to live his life. And he—he had lived so many years, over twice the boy’s age. And what had he really done with it? And yet here was the boy with almost a look of triumph, a look of … could he say it … joy! What had the boy said? He chose to live! When the man left that night, he and all the other members of the circle had once again taken up the torch of believing in their own lives. They had seen light in another and it reminded them that they had a choice about how they might carry their own burdens.
We all carry our past with us. Sometimes it is very visible, as visible as the faces we pass in the streets. But usually it is hidden from all but the most discerning eyes. We cannot know what has happened in another’s life, unless we have truly walked in that person’s shoes. So often it is easier to judge others quickly and be done with it. “I would never have made that decision!” “How can she live like that?” “He’ll never amount to anything!” “She’s hopeless.”
We have all found ourselves espousing that kind of doubtful wisdom. Unfortunately, that kind of “justice” is often self-fulfilling; it closes the door of understanding between one individual and another. It is only through seeking to understand one another from the heart that we can learn compassion. And the compassion that we show others allows us to forgive our own shortcomings. The next time you find yourself wanting to prejudge another, stop and ask how often we too have been judged by those who have not walked in our shoes. Getting a glimpse into others’ misfortunes, our attitude towards them and ourselves can change. “Walk a mile in my shoes,” that old song says, “before you criticize and choose. Walk a mile in my shoes.”
-- Sir John Templeton, Discovering the laws of Life
Photo -- Men in high heels walk to raise awareness about domestic violence and raise funds for those who have experienced it. (Walk A Mile In Her Shoes)