What if I could see everyone as they really are? Would I be able to see them as the wondrous and exciting presence they really are? Would I be able to resist the demanding urge to rush up to everyone and embrace them with the most loving embrace I can imagine?
Would I immediately feel the suffering that drags them down wherever they go? Would I be able to find them in their retreats of false refuges? Could I refrain from taking their hand and holding it, touching their shoulder, speaking softly, walking beside them?
How would I ever manage to walk the four blocks down Hennepin Avenue from my bus stop to the Light Rail station without hugging everyone along the way. Everyone, the dirty and ugly, the clean and beautiful. This would be interesting.