By: Sean Cort

When we talk about the healing relationship between mind and body, we often forget the other, all-important connections that sustain us. Whether it’s the loving bond between a husband and wife, the supportive link between friends and neighbors, or the kindness and civility we all seek in our communities, we need each other to be healthy, happy and whole. But as important as these bonds are, we often lose sight of them.

Most of us are spiritually and emotionally a million miles away from the many parts of the world steeped in civil strife, famine or war. The nightly news has allowed us to become all too familiar with what’s going on in Palestine, Iraq, Chad, Darfur, Sudan, the Congo and so many other countries.

According to a 2005 report cited by UNICEF, for example, 40,000 Nepalese children have been forcibly displaced and tens of thousands more will be abducted, harassed or threatened with detention. In Somalia, 8 million people are starving because of a drought. It’s tragic, we all agree, before turning it off and tuning in to TV’s “American Idol.”

Geography and the relative political stability of American life can at least partly explain our lack of connection to our suffering neighbors around the world. But what excuse do we have for the suffering that so many of us ignore here at home? Most of us are absorbed by careers, distracted by our celebrity-studded media circus, or nestled in the comfort of our own homes. But if we genuinely want to make a difference we can come out from behind our protective walls and connect with others in ways that will not only enhance our sense of community, but help ease each other’s pain.

I suggest we do random acts of kindness, or spend each day looking for ways to practice author and philanthropist Catherine Ryan Hyde’s concept of “paying it forward,” simply put: Help when you can and share what you can spare.

The other day, for instance, while food shopping with my wife, daughter and two sons, I watched as a mother of three walked each supermarket aisle with a shopping list in one hand and a calculator in the other, carefully checking the price of each potential purchase against her budget. Her children’s shoes and clothes were worn and dirty, much like her own. Aggravation and worry were etched on her face.

I’m not a wealthy man but here, I thought, might be an opportunity to help. I made a point of following her to get in front of her in the checkout line, but I was a little too slow and she got there first. As she pulled in front of me, she looked at the few things I had in my cart, then looked at me and smiled. “Since I have so much more than you, you can go ahead of me,” she said. I accepted. It was what I had hoped she would say.

As I swiped my ATM card to pay for my seven items, I mentally tabulated her grocery bill. It wasn’t much, but I left $100 toward her groceries, slipped it to the cashier with a whispered explanation and went on my way. I glanced over my shoulder just long enough to see that after a look of disbelief, the woman looked down at her cart, shook her head and began to cry as she clutched her kids. That moment took away so much pain for me that I became addicted to this sort of thing. What else would I have done with that hundred bucks? A dinner out? A new outfit? Whatever it was, I could spare it on that day. Maybe her work week would be easier or perhaps she’d laugh a little more that night with her kids. I can’t stop a war, feed a starving country, or save a nation of refugees, but I could do that one, little thing. And so can you.

My challenge for you is that you start your own Healing Continuum, a cycle of shared acts of charity, generosity or kindness in your community. Does it seem impossible? Not at all. We all have something valuable to give. Think of what a magnificent world it would be if even half of us decided to share our gifts and you will instantly understand the value of the human connection that we all so badly need.

The gesture, by the way, needn’t involve cash. Recently, I pulled up next to a distracted driver at a light and noticed he wasn’t wearing his seat belt. I politely called out to him while tugging on my seatbelt and said, “Hey my friend, I’ve heard about some really bad accidents that could have been prevented by just wearing these.” He just smiled, looked down at his lap and shook his head before driving off. I’m not sure if he got the point or not, but hopefully during his next quiet moment he realized that a stranger took the time to care about him and connect with him that day.

That’s what I do. What can you share?