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Brotherhood of Man

Have you ever felt envious of someone whose life seems easier than yours?  Better health, greater wealth? What must our country look like from vantages around the world? Even the smallest of houses would surely seem mansion-like to a mother in Afghanistan who tucks her children into holes in the ground at night for warmth. We who waste our natural resources, drive tank-like vehicles, heat and cool enormous houses, spend millions to reconfigure our bodies, hire psychiatrists -- for our pets. We are some of the most fortunate citizens on the face of the earth, but how much are we really entitled to?

Before leaving for Germany as a high school exchange student, I prepared for several months by studying the language and the culture. Two families would be hosting me during the year and my school counselor offered guidance regarding my need to honor energy conservation in their homes: close doors and turn lights off when leaving a room, turn heat down or off when leaving the house. It was 1965 and this was not yet an American mindset.

I often find myself singing the lyrics to Bette Midler's song, "From a Distance." I had actually written a song before Bette's hit with a very similar sentiment. "From a Cloud" describes looking back at our earth and observing that nothing here is limitless, except for love. We inhabit one planet with limited space and natural resources. Until there are condos on the moon, we are all on the same planet. But not in the same boat or on the same page.

Some have a dirt floor and others marble. Some thirst and others have water plentiful enough to clean cars and maintain lush lawns. Some live in a cardboard box, while others own multiple homes.

There is no fairness. It is beyond reason. By living with a social conscience and consciousness, we choose to contribute something of ourselves to bettering the condition of all our citizenry. "Ask not what your country can do for you..." Ever consider paying taxes to be a right, not a burden?

Whenever I feel I am disconnecting from the needs of my fellow man, I sit quietly for about a minute and empathize with someone's life experience: What would it feel like to be a lonely shut-in, someone facing a life-threatening illness or living with debilitating pain, a parent losing a child, a child losing a parent, someone sleeping on the street or navigating in a wheel chair, someone living in a war zone or living with prejudice? It doesn't take long for my sensitivities to reconnect.

There is so much need. It is easy to feel overwhelmed and insignificant in the scheme of things -- that our vote doesn't matter or that our contribution won't make a difference. Every person can leave a legacy: cleaning up a local park, instigating recycling in the workplace, mentoring children, donating to charities, funding social services with our tax dollars. The opportunities are abundant for each of us to do our part. Some of us close our doors and windows to keep it all at bay. It is dizzying. But there will be knocking when we least expect it. Count on it. Celebrate it.