Been thinking about people lately.

Fellow humans. Folks.

With my eyes closed, I imagine us gathered in one place big enough to hold us all, posing for an unseen camera with a 30,000-foot view and somehow, it manages to catch everyone in the frame. I’m this close to using the word “huddled” because the events of the past nineteen months have wrapped us up in an uncomfortable common embrace of vulnerability, leaving no one untouched. I know not everyone will get along, packed together like that. Some are pushing and shoving others out of the way, fistfights break out on the fringes of our raggedy village and brave voices call for peace. But someone is baking bread and the aroma helps soothe our raw nerves if only for a moment.

I open my eyes to look into the faces of each person my imagination conjures up, and I see mostly tired goodness looking for affirmation and just a shred of relief. Laughter may seem an undulating mirage on the horizon, but it’s there and we should keep walking toward it. There’s an ache for the aching to stop, for the walls we’ve built to come tumbling down, but not on top of us. In every face are a thousand stories, piled up reasons for an out of character short-tempered response or a lane change without using a turn signal. It seems distant and cold to insist on an explanation for such behavior, to condemn with “why?” instead of nurturing with “how?” as in “how are you?” Don’t we all need a measure of grace that sees the fragility first, the attempts at doing better, even when we fall short by our own short and harsh yardsticks? How about a little benefit of the doubt instead of instant judgment?

Perhaps we could reorganize our reactions, recalibrate our compassion just a nudge and give each other a nod of understanding and validation, just through the simple act of acknowledgement. What could that look like?

Hey parents of young children, doing your best to let them learn things on their own and also guide them with enough structure to keep them safe while you brace yourself for the rough edge of every critic’s tongue…I see you.

Dear caregivers, who know that the next time you’ll get to sleep in will be after your loved one’s funeral, and so, setting that inevitability aside for now, you get up in the brittle pre-dawn darkness to change linens, empty the bedside commode and open the day’s can of liquid breakfast because that’s what love does…I see you.

Sweet teenagers, on whose shoulders we’ve placed the burden of another generation’s poor judgement and ingenuity alike, with your feet trying to find purchase on the shifting sands of optimism and the overwhelming Unknown…I see you.

School employees, from bus drivers to teachers to cafeteria workers, for the grand enterprise to which you belong—transporting and shaping and feeding the future—sometimes not knowing the difference you’re making…I see you.

Any and all of you in the healthcare continuum, after working your third twelve (sixteen, really) this week, or listening to details you have to (HAVE to) remember from one room to the next while your stomach grumbles for the lunch still waiting in the breakroom fridge…I see you.

Newlyweds, with the big day’s celebration just over your shoulders and the path ahead strewn with the fragrant possibility that yours truly is the Greatest Love Story Ever Told, as you write thank you notes and can’t wipe those happy smiles from your faces…I see you.

Road construction workers, who stand for hours with your “Stop” and “Slow” signs as we drive past you, more or less compliant but still inches from your hardhat-covered head while the sharp acrid smell of fresh tar sinks into your very skin…I see you.

That’s just the start of a long list of individual circumstances begging to be noticed, loads too heavy to carry anymore and losses grieved in the darkest corners of a sagging heart that longs to be touched by the precious gift of someone else’s undivided attention.

I encourage you, dear reader, to add your own acknowledgements to this list, to share what you see, what you notice when you look through the eyes of love, in the hope that it moves us even the slightest bit closer to the exhale we all so desperately need.

This movie ain’t nowhere near over yet.