A Few Nights In Bangkok

Walking the streets of a metropolis. It could be anywhere in the world. This time it's in Southeast Asia. It was The City of Angeles to be specific. For me, the mystique of the exotic, other, different has long since worn off. It could be Los Angeles at this point. It could be anywhere because I am struck now by the visceral understanding of what I have intellectually known for some time. Strip away birth place, opportunity, privilege, life experience, a few few good choices and a few bad, and there is not that much different between anyone, from the street beggar dangling a bit of rice to draw a rat out of its hole to the frat boy chugging a nati light at whatever elite institution. They are both filling a void. There isn't that much different between the Hi So socialite speeding down the way in whatever European Sports Car, and the street prophet in San Francisco preaching of the end times. They both live for the spotlight. Even when survival is at stake, we seek meaning above all else.

Then there are the harder workers too. The prostitutes, many supporting their children. It seems most people anywhere will do anything for their children. Then there are the street children themselves, capable of sophistication and manipulation that would make a politician blush. Never assume youth means lack of intelligence. There are savants in every slum in the world, as surely as there are child prodigies getting into elite institutions.

There are the street walkers, the poorer country refugees, bar girls/boys, the tourists for sex and to discover themselves. The homeless, the well off. The men and women doing hard work to bring a better future. The men and women chasing away the pain, and those just floating through. 

I walk on by observing everything, and trying to admire nothing. And then I hear it, and in the way it always comes as a small enough voice, but one that I imagine echos across eternity. "I am here. I am love. This is my world, and you may say this is my Father's world". And just like that, the visceral understanding hits. 

Strip away cultural biases, historical context, language, upbringing, experience, everything else that differentiates, and there it is. Everyone from the street hooker, homeless drug addict, single mother, gang member, government official, religious leader, academic, CEO, etc, we are all made in the image of the Creator. Everyone you meet is made in the image of Creator, including you. 

Now consider that same Creator never left. That Creator was our Father and our Mother. That Creator made a point of entering the world as creation. That Creator had skin in the game. That creator died. 

And He is Risen

The Near Side Of The River Styx

The one thing we all share in common regardless of what age or status we were born to is that we all entered the world alone, and we will all leave it equally alone.  Much has been said for nature verses nurture determining the course of our lives between the two poles of loneliness.  Some are born to high status.  Some into garbage dumps.  Some die surrounded by loved ones, and some die on the street corner completely alone.  Regardless, we were all born and we will all die.  What happens between the two is not so much about the conditions that the one started and the other ended, but more about the choices we make between the two.  You see, of all the things out of your control, you will always have control over your own reaction, if you so desire.

Freedom is a choice.  It is a choice to accept the position as a single individual who is solely responsible for his or her actions.  The tempest of reality brings its force to bare on all.  It is always your choice how you will respond.

All humans suffer.  The degree to which we suffer depends on the station to which me were born, but all suffer.  To negate this is to ignore reality.  To the degree that you suffer, make it meaningful.

Be that dark figure on the near shore who catches those who can't pay the fair across the River Styx.  By that one to talk to the homeless alcoholic on the street corner.  Be that one to care.  Be the single individual who is willing to be the change you so desire.

Be truly human.