Walk in Someone Else’s Shoes

Lessons in Everyday Empathy

We’ve all heard the phrase “walk in someone else’s shoes,” but most of the time it stays abstract. For me, it’s shown up lately in small, very ordinary moments—moments that reminded me empathy isn’t about having the perfect instinct. It’s about paying attention, asking better questions, and being willing to act when something doesn’t feel right.

Over the past month, three experiences stuck with me.

Barbara

Most mornings, my family walks our twins to school. On the way, we often pass Barbara—a woman in her seventies, bundled in a heavy winter coat, carrying two bags and heading toward the bus stop.

One afternoon, I drove past her in town and noticed she’d walked right by her usual stop and kept going. I pulled over and offered her a ride.

What she explained was simple, and frustrating. The sidewalk had been cleared, but the bus stop itself hadn’t. A wall of packed snow between the curb and the street made it impossible for her—and likely others—to climb up and board the bus. One small oversight had quietly stranded seniors and neighbors with mobility challenges for days.

It took about half an hour with a shovel and a sledgehammer to fix both bus stops on Main Street. Nothing heroic—just noticing a problem from someone else’s point of view and doing something about it. Sometimes walking in someone else’s shoes means realizing how many obstacles people are navigating without complaint.

Tina

If you haven’t tried Be My Eyes, I recommend it. The app connects volunteers with people who are visually impaired, letting you “lend your eyes” through a quick video call.

My first call was with Tina. For about twenty minutes, we did laundry together—sorting darks and whites, pairing socks, clipping them, and getting them into the wash.

It was quietly eye-opening. I’ve never once given a thought to how socks stay together through a laundry cycle. For Tina, that “mindless” task required planning, systems, and creativity.

That moment wasn’t about feeling virtuous—it was about realizing how much of my day runs on invisible ease. Empathy doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it’s just recognizing that what feels automatic to you might be genuinely complicated for someone else.

Work

I see this same principle show up in business.

At work, I once pitched an upgrade to a Google Marketing Platform tool. On paper, it made complete sense—better rates, stronger support, and more robust features. The benefits were clear.

But customers hesitated.

Their concern wasn’t cost or functionality. It was risk. What if the transition caused even a short gap—six hours where ads stopped running? That downtime could mean lost revenue and damaged trust with their own clients.

Even if that fear didn’t align perfectly with the technical reality, it was still their reality. And that made it real enough to matter.

Understanding that shifted the conversation. The solution wasn’t pushing harder—it was addressing the fear directly, planning for it, and meeting people where they were.

One More Takeaway

Empathy isn’t just about being kind—it leads to better outcomes. In families, in partnerships, and in business, perspective helps surface risks, needs, and opportunities that logic alone can miss.

And it doesn’t have to be complicated. Empathy can be as simple as noticing who’s struggling, asking why, and taking one practical step to make things easier.

Put simply: empathy isn’t a personality trait reserved for a few people. It’s a skill—and when you practice it, it becomes an edge.