What I saw, and heard

The other day, I heard something familiar. I was droning away, listening to music, when I heard it--the low sobs of a man crying (and no, it was not me).

My ears perked up, and I looked over to my left. A man standing near me was crying. Sometimes, you can wonder if the tears are ones of joy. That illusion ended when he banged his hand against the wall. At times, he was quiet. Other times, the sobs were loud, or soft.

In a situation like this in public, it can be uncomfortable to see someone emotional like that. You avert your eyes, pretend you don't hear, dive back into your paper.

But I felt a lot of empathy for him, even though I had no idea what brought him to tears. I've been there, wherever he is. I felt no pity for him. Just a strong sense that I know what it feels like for him. It bothered me deeply to see another human suffering.

The thing I didn't do was go over and ask what I could do. Or say it would be ok. He walked away before I could.

But I did cry a little for him. I don't know why. I've never seen him before, and may never see him again. But I felt what he felt, unknown as it is.

There is so much suffering and pain in the world. Too much. Some suffer silently, others pour it out, release it. I think he will be fine.

The courage he showed in shedding his tears in public is courage to be emulated. As much as it hurt to have his heart open like that, he opened it.

I'll remember this, as a reminder to stay open, no matter how much it hurts.