Riding the elevator to work today, I had this incredible overwhelming sense of love for all aboard. I didn’t know their stories nor their backgrounds. I didn’t know if they were good people or ones with horrible wicked tendencies. There was just this feeling of camaraderie. A sense of we are in this together and not meaning the four walls of the elevator.
We all shared one experience for sure. Birth. We were born into the world. Pure. Then everything became different. Vastly different for each one of us.
Life catapulted us forward. Some to privilege. Some straight into a path of suffering. But like birth, one thing we still experience together that’s the same is life force. A beating heart.
Because we breathe, we are worthy. Worthy of respect. Even the worst of us.
I felt an overwhelming desire that just that one day if possible even the not so deserving would have a good day. A peaceful one. One of hope. One of clarity. A day where the road was easier. The sun would shine a little warmer on their face.
My taxi driver wore a large print houndstooth dinner jacket today. With a scarlet thread. His pants were pressed to such a degree a military man of high station would be in admiration. He used to work at a upscale tailor in Dubai before immigrating to Canada.
Now he drives me to work somedays. Always dressed in his finery. With a smile. His cheery contagious spirit.
He celebrates the ordinary days. Every day is worthy of his best.
Jimmy texts me from Tokyo. He’s one of the finest lawyers to grace the office of Blake, Cassels & Graydon LLP. He wrote, “I was complimented on my shoes and suit today and I thought about what you told me. You said ‘Life is too short to spend it not dressed well.’ ”
Life is too short for an ugly outfit folks. Ask the taxi driver. Ask Jimmy. Ask me.