*This is an excerpt from my new book out now, All In This Together: Stories and Teachings for Loving Each Other and Our World
Dear friends,
When we are treated with true respect, something inside us comes alive. It’s as if, in that moment, we are finally seen.
A friend once told me a story about a young boy—seven years old—who went to a restaurant with his parents. When the waitress came to take their order, she leaned down, looked the boy in the eyes, and asked, “What would you like?”
“I’d like a hot dog and a Coke,” he said, his voice bright with confidence.
Before he could finish, his mother interrupted quickly: “He’ll have the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and a glass of milk.”
The waitress didn’t argue. She just smiled and continued around the table, taking the others’ orders. When she was done, she turned back to the boy and said, “Would you like ketchup or mustard on your hot dog?”
When she walked away, the boy looked at his parents with wide eyes and said softly, “She thinks I’m real.”
That line has stayed with me for decades. It captures something we all long for—to be seen as real. To be met with respect, even when we’re small, uncertain, or powerless. This kind of respect doesn’t require agreement. It doesn’t mean we condone or approve of everything another person does. It simply says: I see you. You matter.
When we’re respected, our dignity awakens. We feel the worth that has been there all along. It’s why the Buddha often began his teachings with words like, “Oh noble one, remember who you really are.” He wasn’t flattering people—he was reminding them of their innate goodness and sovereignty, the nobility of their own heart.
To live with respect is to live with mindfulness and love. When you listen to your child’s story, even when you’re busy, you are practicing respect. When you make eye contact with the person at the checkout counter and actually mean “thank you,” you are practicing respect. When you speak gently to yourself after making a mistake, you are offering respect to your own humanity.
Everyone—and everything—thrives on respect. It’s the soil in which love grows. Our relationships, our communities, and our world are all nourished by it.
When you forget, you can begin again. Take a breath. Feel your own body sitting here, alive and worthy of care. Then extend that same kindness outward—to the next person you meet, to the trees outside, to the small creatures that share your day.
Because in truth, deep down what we all want is someone to look up and say, “I see you. You are real. You are loved just as you are.”
With metta,
Jack
