The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn

I had a dentist appointment yesterday and was feeling very sorry for myself because I had a cavity that ended up costing me extra money that I didn’t have, but then I heard on the news that bombs had gone off in Boston at the Marathon, and my cavity seemed like the small thing that it is. I do have the money to pay for it, thank God – for years I didn’t have health insurance and when I finally started going back to the dentist again he was amazed that my teeth were still in as good shape as they are. The insurance I have doesn’t cover the whole amount, but it’s not very much in the scheme of things, and it’s a blessing to have a good dentist and health insurance, and an income that will cover the extra expense of something like this.

Bombs and terrorism  - what can cover that? I lived through 9/11 here in NYC – I was living on West Broadway at the time, and heard the first plane go right overhead, heard the crash and went up on the roof to watch the second. When I heard what happened today, I called my mom – she’s still up in Massachusetts, near Boston, where I lived until I moved here. I remembered the shock of that September day, and wanted to make sure that she was all right. I knew she wouldn’t have been near the explosions, and probably wouldn’t have been in the city, but when things like that happen, it doesn’t matter if you’re near by or in another city, you still feel them.

Acts of terror are meant to make people feel afraid. They’re meant to make us shut down, to stop living our lives freely, to stop us from doing the things we always do. I heard on the news that cell phone service was shut down in Boston, that the subway system was shut down, the hospitals were on lock down, and that transportation out of the city was nearly impossible. Two people dead and over a hundred and thirty wounded, some with devastating wounds, missing limbs. How can a city go back to living its daily life after something like this? Yet we do somehow, maybe slowly at first, but somehow we get back to what it was that we were doing before if we are able at all to do it. I remember those days after 9/11 so clearly still, the toxic smell that lingered in the air, the empty streets downtown. But through that time, somehow there was an opening of light between people. I had some neighbors back then who took care of me through those days, two women who I knew from the hallway we shared, but they opened their home to me then, gave me food and a place to hang out so I wouldn’t have to feel like I was alone.

Why is it that people don’t live their lives that way every day? I know we have to go to work to pay our bills, we have responsibilities to family and friends, but why is it that we don’t have more time to just help someone with a little bit of our time, to say a few kind words, to share a meal? I enjoy my solitude, and have joked with friends that I keep my apartment a mess so I have an excuse not to invite anyone over, but why do I need that excuse? Why is my solitude so precious to me that I can’t take the time away from myself to give it to someone else?

I could say that it’s because my job is one of giving time to others, and that’s true. I travel all over the five boroughs of New York City teaching about health and wellness to people of all ages at Community Centers and Houses of Worship and Schools. My work time is spent with so many people all day long every day that I do need some time for myself. We need that time away from other people to take the deep breaths that we might not be able to take, to feed our souls and our spirits and rest our weary bodies and minds. But even if our lives are poured out every day, would it be so hard to take a few minutes for kindness to the people we see on the street, in our office, the supermarket, our apartment building?

On September 12, 2001, I went out in the early morning and took a photograph of the empty street of West Broadway, looking straight downtown to the now empty skyline.  I was able to stand in the middle of the street because there was no traffic at all. It was so silent, so eerily silent, in an area that is usually crowded with tourists and revelers, a hotspot of hotspots in a city that never sleeps. On September 10, a friend had invited me to a movie, Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge. It started and ended with a song, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return.” Somehow with all the hustle and bustle of our lives, somehow even when we are giving of ourselves to others, we may find that we have forgotten that song.

Before another day goes by, tell the people around you that you care about them. It doesn’t have to be a big show, you don’t have to take them out to dinner or invite them home with you. Just look them in the eye and let them know you see them, that they matter, that the world would be a different place without them. Let them know that you’d notice if they were gone, and that you’re glad they’re not. Let them know they’re worth something of great value. God says they are, and He says you are too. Don’t ever forget that, no matter what happens.

Blessings,

Jannie Susan