You don’t know.
Not really, anyway.
You don’t know her pain.
You don’t know his struggles.
You may think that you know.
But you don’t. You can’t.
You don’t know what led her to be standing on the off ramp, begging for money.
You don’t know what his intention was when he cut you off in traffic.
You may tell yourself that you know.
But you don’t.
Just as you don’t reveal everything that led you to your own moments of weakness, so too with the other.
Because you don’t know.
In fact, you probably don’t even know what you don’t know.
You can’t know. You don’t know. You really don’t want to know, do you?
This is compassion.
This is empathy.
Striving to know. To understand.
The other might make it difficult or impossible for you to know.
But can you imagine, infer or intuit?
If you admit that you really don’t know, your anger may decrease.
Your heart may open.
You may make a connection. That you never would have made.
Could you try this?
Something good may happen.
You never know.