He wasn't completely blind, but he was mostly blind. He was old and feeble and walked very slowly while staggering. He could see well enough to avoid walking into traffic or bumping into walls but would struggle with small objects on the sidewalk.
He wasn't the only blind person on the street that day. All around him were men women and children moving in both directions who somehow managed to avoid bumping into him without otherwise showing any signs of having seen him.
My blindness was worse than others. Not that I didn't see him. I saw him and probably even dedicated an entire 3 seconds to contemplating the precariousness of his situation. There were no friends or family with him. I had no idea how he had gotten himself where he was or how he would get to safety.
Any third-party observer would assume that I had not even seen him as I briskly strode past him and took a sharp right turn toward my house. My boss was living in Brazil and was going to call me later that evening. Due to the distance, it was difficult for him to appreciate the hours of effort that I was making and there was still a lot of work to be done before I had tangible evidence of my sacrifices. The predicament of that man was miles away even though I had only wandered about 200 meters when suddenly the thoughts of work, ambition, career, promotion, and financial markets were assaulted with a violent onslaught of conscience.
What was wrong with me? Why wasn't I helping him?
As I turned around, I saw him in his confusion surrounded by the blind crowds pressing on all sides. My boss in Brazil would just have to wait.
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I reached him and discovered that his speech had already become impaired. I asked him where he was going, his response was unintelligible. I asked him where he lived, and his answer was garbled. But he was gesturing with his hand toward a place on the other side of the busy 8 lane intersection. I decided to trust that he could see well enough to point in the right direction. As I offered him help and extended my arm, I didn't understand his verbalizations but the gratitude was evident as he took my arm.
We took a very long time in crossing that street. Longer than I have ever taken to cross a street and much longer than I expected. The blind men and women in their cars began honking their horns, but... I was ENJOYING this. Their bosses in Brazil would just have to wait.
Now, helping an invalid cross an intersection is not something worth bragging about. It is simply basic and elemental humanity. Something most healthy people do without thinking twice. Only someone blinded by ambition, deadlines, and pressure would have abandoned a disabled elderly man as I had done.
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Returning was a simple act. But for some reason that I don't fully understand that slow walk across a lengthy intersection with honking horns is the event that I recall most often and vividly from those years. When life presses you so hard anything that rescues your humanity can be an act of rebellion. It isn't the most philanthropic thing anyone has ever done but given the pressures and dehumanizing ambitions I was undergoing at that moment I think that that single act is the most rebellious act of defiance I have ever committed in my entire life. Toward the middle of the intersection, I felt that I was spitting in the face of all the pressures that wanted to crush me and extinguish my happiness, humanity, and joy. At that moment I recognized death within me. Not that something was dying in that moment, to the contrary, in that instant my eyes were open to see how much had already died. Ten meters from the other sidewalk my rebellion had grown. For one brief moment I was urinating on the vices which were attacking my humanity.
I continued with the elderly man approximately 60 meters along the sidewalk on the other side when I handed him over to his frightened and grateful family members. They were diligently searching for him but doing so in the wrong places because he has somehow wandered further this time.
As soon as I left him, I ran to make up for lost time and tried to produce tangible results for my boss before the call.
But something had happened in that moment, and I have often thought back to that experience. Somehow in that moment the spit and urine combined, my rebellion watered a dry sapling which began to grow. Approximately 15 years later I think back on that event whenever I feel the pressures of work and ambition threaten the water, soil, and sunlight that my inner child needs to perform the photosynthesis that gives me oxygen and fruit. This reminds me to care for myself and to care for others.
Did allowing that blind man to lead me, save me from the ditch?
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