I recently took care of a patient who went out of his way to thank for me crouching next to his bedside to speak to him. “I like you,” he said. “Actually, I don’t just like you, I trust you. You didn’t stand over me like some ‘lord’ like most people do. You got down and looked me in the eye.” It’s true. I did. His bed seemed to be extra low to the ground and for some reason my 5’6” frame felt like I was towering over this 75-year-old man, and it didn’t feel right. So, I squatted down to his level.

We talked about his condition and what the best next steps would be. We were debating about the need for surgery, and if we decided to pursue surgery, the right timing for his operation. He shared with me some details about himself and his family. Where he is from, what he does for work, what he does for fun, who his children are and what they do. I painted a picture in my mind of what his life must be like. Travel. Family. Some adventure. Expert in his field. I could imagine a man beyond the gaunt and tired one in front of my eyes. Through some tears, he grabbed my hand and said, “Thank you for taking care of me. I trust you.”

His words seared into my mind that week, I found myself crouching down next to a lot of bedsides. Aching knees be damned. Eye level is a powerful place to be.

This encounter made me think about all the times and places that I have purposefully or subconsciously used my privilege as a well-to-do, white, American, to “lord” over the person in front of me. Instead of crouching down, how many times have I stood up, and over, any number of people who live in the margins of the world? Our Black and Brown brothers and sisters who may have been born in another nation; our Palestinian cousins who truly desire peace not terror; our LGBTQ+ family and friends who want only to be loved for who they truly are; our Jewish neighbors who are heartbroken over senseless death but also dearly desire and deserve dignity and a safe haven; women who face abuse, neglect, or violence; the families whose tireless work is just not enough and find themselves in desperate need. How. Many. Times.?

Getting down on eye level in this world means more than my aching knees and burning quads for a few minutes. Eye level means digging deep into trying to understand what it’s like from another vantage point. Eye level means zooming in from a stadium full of people who I’ve labeled as “the opposition” to the individual person who has a name and a story. It means checking my privilege. It means letting go of the fear of losing control or power. Eye level means being brave enough to watch the videos of dying children in Gaza; it means listening to the stories of the daring souls who navigated the Darien Gap in a heroic effort to bring a better life to themselves and their children; it means asking the woman who is seeking an abortion the simple question, “Why? Tell me your story,” instead of peppering her with guilt for her situation. Eye level means coming down from my ivory tower. It means showing up, shutting up and, kneeling down. Eye level means opening our hearts, quieting the noise, and building trust.

I remain deeply affected by my patient who poignantly taught me about the power of eye level. I hope you consider it too. We can all be better if we just take a moment to get down on eye level.

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.