Walking on a busy road in London today on my way to and from work, it struck me how many glimpses of conversations and people I passed by,
"Did you send the report to him?" [working man, on his phone looking distracted]
"I told Ginge, and he was like..." [young student type]
"Clark told me it was like that, I don't know why" [couldn't see who said this]
And when I arrived at a busy pedestrian crossing where everyone was waiting for the road to clear, I took a look around. There were people from so many different walks of life.
Young slim women looking trendy, overweight men in suits, a woman with a pushchair looking harrassed, an old man with white hair, who looked familiar. Even more besides, that I couldn't take in.
I wonder how many lives we pass by everyday, without even realising? All the glimpses of conversations we hear, I wonder if I'm alone in never before wondering what the full story is?
Sitting on my sofa right here, right now, I will never again hear about Ginge, and I will never find out what he said or thought.
As people, as a race, we pass each other by, mostly without acknowledgement. Clinging on dearly to the few people we know and love. And when people reach out, even in a small way as they did to me earlier -
"Free Stylist?" [distibutor looked me square in the eye]
"Hello, how are you? Do you have a minute to help?" [homeless person, sitting down outside Euston]
- it's all too easy to ignore and pass by. Safe in anonymity. Safe in the knowledge that we won't see these people again.
But wouldn't it be nice to interact with everyone, or even just a few people, just a little bit? Eye contact, a smile, maybe even a compliment. £5 or a sandwich for someone in need.
Anything has to be better than ignoring the people, the characters, stories and unknown lives that pass us in glimpses every day.
What do you think?