Everyone hurts. Some have external signs they are hurting. They may have an obvious physical wound that creates pain. They may have physical limitations that make it painful to do daily tasks. They may have been injured and their body is bleeding. They may have signs of pain on their face that communicates to those around them. 

But the hurt of others may be deeply buried. A childhood abuse—the death of love—the shattered dream. Some may have deep wounds of rejection or so ridiculed as children that they feel unable to make it socially. Some may live such lonely and desperate lives with such a smile that no one around them can believe they have very little desire to continue.

Whether the hurt is obvious or hidden, it exists. And I try to remember that when I am engaged with others. Our souls are repositories of painful events and those events generally shape our reactions to what is going on around us.

Because I believe this, there are a couple of things that I try do. One is to give others the benefit of the doubt. When someone flips me off when I inadvertently cut in front of them in the car, I try to remember that they may have had a terrible day.  When someone responds angrily at something that I say or do, I try to remember that they may be speaking out of a pain about which I know  nothing.

And because I believe everyone hurts, I try to be patient with others when they are impatient with me. Their hurt may be so deep that it causes them to fear something that I say or some action that I might take. They may react rather than respond. If I am patient, I may be able to help them speak their fear and then I can approach them with tenderness are care.

When we assume that everyone hurts, being patient and giving the benefit of the doubt is a kind thing to do.