Are there any reliable ways to transcend differences, whether caused by age or illness or even those which are self imposed?

I often look for the common thread, the golden clasp that connects us all and that even includes our animal brothers and sisters.

It is elusive at times because we seem to feel safe with non-transendable existence. That’s why we are so aware of how much personal space we need for ourselves and between ourselves and others.

Just observe how often in a conversation one of the participants folds his or her arms securely in front to create a physical separation.

I think I know of some things that erase, at least for a time, the need for distance. One is music.

One night long ago while visiting my mother at her assisted living facility, we went to a party for the residents. One resident caught my attention. Her name was Mary.

There was a combo that played music you could sing to, listen to or even dance to. Mary walked with her cane to hear the music. But I expected her “gentry background” would keep her solidly in her chair.

Mary had Alzheimers and was in her 80s. Her only activity each day was walking.

Alone she walked, always alone. She did not stop to talk with other residents.

Nothing caught her interest.

Imagine my surprise when, almost immediately, her feet began tapping, her hands began clapping and her smile became electric and beautiful.

Mary’s poor health could isolate just about anyone but that night something magical happened.

There was a young person also listening to the music. I believe she worked there. She saw how the music was affecting Mary. She walked over to Mary, grabbed her hands, pulled her to her feet and began dancing with her.

Not only did Mary move to the beat, but I could tell she was 100 percent into the music.

That solitary old lady threw all her inhibitions away as she tossed her head in such a way as to make her hair fly around wildly.

There they were — one young lady, one old, one ill and one healthy.

There was much hip moving, raising of arms, throwing of heads back to laugh more gustily.

The music erased the differences and wound them together in a beautiful dance of life.

There are other things that can erase the need for distance.

Just take a stand for something you are passionate about and you will find people beside you who are also passionate about the same things. This happens regardless of age, social status or gender.

I believe it works because the focus changes from “I-ism” to “other-ism.”

For instance, I could and still can work or be friends with anyone whose passion is being a voice for animals.

And what about illness? Ill strikes everyone with no regard to age, belief systems or gender. When it does, we tend to seek out others for comfort.

That is why support groups work. No matter how solitary we are, when we get really ill, we almost always reach out to others; no distance required.

I have mentioned this before but what a perfect example of this. One evening while visiting my parents at Abbey Delray, we were walking back to their apartment.

All was quiet but I had an overwhelming desire to cut loose, make some noise, stir the aging pot and make them smile and laugh.

I linked arms with mother on my right and my dad on my left and I began to sing at the top of my lungs the song “Show Me the Way to Go Home.”

This facility is plushy, sedate, dignified, but as we went down the hall singing, apartment doors began to open and residents stood smiling.

One resident was so moved he joined our walk.

See what I mean? Doing what your heart wants and trusting enough to make it habit to look for the good in people takes trust to remove the distance.

Maybe it is old age, and hopefully a little more wisdom, but I finally get it. Life is hard and it’s serious. Life will assure you if we play it safe and we don’t take risks and we always keep our distances, we will probably miss the depths, but we will definitely miss the rapture.

I am determined to not allow such a swap in my life. I cherish the rapture of life and took many adventures and risks along the way. I even endured the risk of looking for the good in people.
I want all of us to uncross our chest and undo all of the other symbols that say you are too close.

I want us all to trust enough to tear down our walls.

How about it?

Let’s transcend differences and instead let’s celebrate them.

The view from the mountain is wondrous.

Winchester, but now resides in Littleton, Colorado. Her column has appeared in the Sun for more than 25 years.