My Dad once told me to always acknowledge another human being’s presence, because to not do so is to deny their existence. I catch myself remembering this from time to time when I’m on a crowded bus, walking past a homeless person, ignoring the overly chatty cashier, pretending not to notice those who I don’t think notice me. And so we pass each other by. Missing each other’s beat, limiting the truth of each other’s form, leaving no trace on each other’s presence, not a smile, not a heartbeat, not a breath, not even a lingering question… Who are you? Who am I? And when we do choose to see, we suddenly find that in turn we’ve allowed ourselves to be seen. We’ve become a mirror, reflecting back each other’s existence. And maybe that’s why sometimes we pretend not to notice, because we’re afraid of what we’ll see or worse, whether we’ll see anything at all. But when we do acknowledge someone’s presence, we choose our humanity and something inside all of us comes alive. To see and be seen. It’s such a simple, effortless act, yet such a rare and precious thing.