Why? Because some times you just have to hug it out.

So yesterday I wrote about a singular experience in my life that meant something, that really touched me at a time when I needed it. It was very basic, very human and possessing an impact far beyond the moment itself. Since then I’ve had a few people ask me what was up, or what prompted me to write something like that. After all, it was just a hug.

Honestly, it was all about sharing what it means to be human, and treating others the same way. It might seem trite, it’s nothing we haven’t heard before, but day after day, all I see is people stripping away their humanity in service of some agenda or ideal. The way we communicate today via social media is all about aggression, domination and debasement. We don’t lift one another up so much as put the people around us down so that we can appear higher. We do it and don’t even think about it any more.

So yeah, I shared a moment where I hurt and somebody else helped me up. Everybody has been there. In my own life I’ve lost loved ones, been homeless, stared at a stack of bills knowing I couldn’t pay them. Worked two or three jobs just to make ends meet and wonder why I am doing it. I’ve been angry, frustrated, lost and hopeless. I’ve been worse. But I’ve been blessed with a great many people in my life that have been there for me, too. Just as I wrote about Lee, I could write about old business partners, a former pastor or a sixth grade principal who introduced me to the hilarity of Leslie Nielsen and much, much more; of friends and family who cared. Sometimes absolute strangers. Just normal people, everyone of them facing their own struggles right along side mine.

So why is it so hard see each other as human, as people? What God, what political party, corporation or nation ever did so much for us that we no longer see others as human beings facing the same struggles we do. I have yet to find one.

It was a hug, people.

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About Dan Granot

I chose the Shorter Whitman because of his work, "Song of Myself" and because of my self-deprecating sense of humor. I am under no illusion that I can write successful essays or poetry, but I have been known to write them anyway.

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