On days when I cloister myself within the walls of my tiny, East Village apartment and spend most of the daylight hours working furiously my first steps out into the buzzing world of Manhattan humanity are always a little overwhelming. At these times I am often, if inexplicably, drawn to reflect on just how many of us there are and the mind inevitably turns to the damage and change we are wreaking on this planet. And today, walking do wn 14th Street the uncommonly chill breeze that blew past me and out to the east towards the ocean seemed to portend strange and inexorable changes that were already taking place.
Usually my first thoughts when I see the insensate throngs of humanity doing whatever it is that we do I am filed with loathing and blame. It is as if I want to make them responsible for where we are and for the damage done but why? Surely none of them want to wreak the havoc that is the result of our resource hungry world. Not the guys eating pizza as they walked briskly up 3rd Ave nor the man who carelessly threw a receipt to the ground as he walked to the rhythm of his ear phones and not the homeless huddled under the eaves of a restaurant. For the first time I realized that I am not s pecial and no different. It is our common lot and destiny and the only appropriate response to all of them, to all of us is compassion.