How are you doing?

How are you doing?

This is asked of all of us multiple times a day.  Most times, it is a barely intelligible question that barely registers a response.  Most of the time it is a courtesy, a symbol without substance.  

How are you doing?  Says the lady at Starbucks.

Great, I'll have a cookie.  

How are you doing?  Says the receptionist. 

Fine, I have a 2:30 appointment.

How are you doing? Says your coworker.

Another day, another dollar.

None of the answers require thought.  None of the questions really want the truth.  They are the "handshake", the screeching sounds that start a fax, the opening protocol for the real communication that comes later.  

Sometimes we mean it, and it's a pity we have to use the same words, when the difference in meaning is so vast.

How are you doing?

It was a relief for her, she's in a better place, it's what's best. 

How are you doing?

I loved her, I'll miss her, she was a part of my life that was bigger than I realized. But I'll be fine.

I wish I could help you.

You have, thanks for your thoughts and kind words.

How amazing are humans, that we can take the same syllables, the same sounds and mean such different things? 

How are you doing? 

[don't respond, the important stuff comes after this]

How are you doing?

[I know you have experienced something difficult, I'm willing to share your burden]

This is one of those times.  When "how are you doing" has meaning.  I've heard "how are you doing" asked by strangers, co-workers, friends and family.  They've all meant it.  I've felt the concern. I've been embarrassed, a little bit, that I have had so little burden to share.  But I've felt the concern and savored the sweet taste of real humanity. 

Whether you believe this capacity for shared sorrow and grief, accompanied with a group effort to raising the afflicted was acquired by evolution or bestowed by a higher power, how marvelous (and, at times, confusing) that the same species who troll each other on social media, taunt each other at sporting events, and do much worse during wartime, can also lift, shelter, support and show concern.  The ability to offer this to a fellow human is inspiring and beautiful.  But, the ability to receive is equally fascinating.  

Obviously, someone I care about has died.  Soon, another may follow.  I will be fine.  I am experiencing a loss, but what I have lost is so much less than I gained.  Because of my distance (geographical and chronological) from those I have lost, I am able to survey the situation from a distance.  I am able to not need, the love and support of others.  Instead, I am able see the attempts of others to support those who suffered splash damage (to steal a video game term) from the tragedy.  The awkwardness, the hesitancy, the low spoken condolences.  I used to mock them.  I thought they were a waste.  Now I see that the effort, the intent, in and of itself, is a successful bid to aid.  

How unusual, in this post modern, cynical word, to have to admit that the cliches now have meaning.  They are trite no more.  

She will always be with us.  She led a good life.  She will live on in our memories.  I've learned so much from her.  

And, perhaps soon: He would have wanted to leave with her.  They are together now.  

Take a moment, please.  Value another human, try to feel their pain, try to help them, or at least help them know you understand.  You will all be the better for it.  

And hopefully, I won't have to write any serious posts, at least for a long while.