Yesterday I saw the face of humanity.
And it was beautiful.
Yesterday I went to see a friend who was in the Grossmont Hospital emergency room after an episode involving his medication ... and some alcohol.
It was a harsh scene: two of his close friends, his sister, his sister's husband and then me, all in a huddle of intense conversation about this man's plight, his past, and his pain. We shared what we knew about him in order to bring understanding and compassion ... in order to help bring sense to a crazy world. As we talked, I would intermittently look around at the others in the waiting room. I saw many sad faces, many worried faces. Two women over in one corner. A family of three in another part of the room. A mother with her young sleeping child on another side.
I saw one man sitting in a chair, flanked by a friend on each side of him. Every now and then, a reality would hit and he would start to grieve, falling over to his left or right as he collapsed into tears and into a loved one's arms. I didn't just see sadness and despair, not just compassion and empathy. I saw the love and I saw the beauty. I saw humanity.
This is the same humanity that appears in all humans who have hearts, loves and losses. It's found in those humans in Iraq, Iran, America, Afghanistan, Russia. It's found in the humans in Syria.
For every heart that has lost, there is a human who is torn apart. There is a human who cares, who deeply loves another and wants to remain connected and aligned. This sort of humanity runs, like a stream, through the fabric of all people of the planet. It knows not country boundaries, nor political allegiances, nor flags, nor some propaganda concept of "us and them." It knows not enmity, polarization, competition and attack. It knows only the uplift of connection and the ruin of separation.
It's at this level where the battle ends, where territory can be shared, where arms are put down, where war is studied and cheered no more. This is a level where the face of humanity looks itself in the mirror and sees what there truly is to see: love, truth and beauty.
Yesterday, I saw it for myself.
James Anthony Ellis is a writer living in Lemon Grove. He can be reached at LegacyProductions.org.