I’m not big on sport analogies, but there is one that always sticks with me, as I navigate this world, and other relationships. It was during a football game. He had just scored a touchdown, which we all agree can be exciting, but the player made a gigantic display in the endzone, far exceeding any natural elation. As he continued it back to his side of the playing field, the coach simply said, “Act like you’ve been there before.”

It’s exciting to be a tourist. I love it. It’s easy to get caught up in the moment. I understand. But it seems that a majority of us have lost the ability to recognize that we are wandering through, not just monuments, but other people’s lives.

We sat near the altar in La Cathédrale de la Major for Charles’ confirmation. Of course this is one of Marseille’s grand cathedrals. A coveted destination for sure. But throughout the service, tourists, in their brightly colored shorts and graffitied t-shirts that declared the latest concert attended, wandered beyond the velvet ropes nearly on to the altar, snapping photos, waving to the rest of their group to signify that they made it to the “endzone.”

I mention it mostly as a reminder to myself. Without our knowledge or permission, we are touristing through the lives of others. I hope that I, we, can ease up on the trample, even on the most exciting of days. Because on this day that we are celebrating our victories, someone is losing someone, someone is lost. I think our joy is meant to be seen — definitely. Never as a taunt, but as a welcome.

I want to get better at this journey. Maybe the best way to start is to realize we are all on one.