A few months ago on my way home from work, walking to my car, as usual I cut through the shopping centre carpark.

As I walked through the carpark, I noticed about 50 metres away a man standing very close to the back of a car, almost leaning against it. His stance looked strange, and as I got closer, I realised he was actually urinating against the back tyre of this particular car – all out in the open for everyone to see.

Thoughts raced through my mind. Should I confront him about it? Is he drunk? Will he pop me one in the face if I say something to him? There’s children around, this is a public place, you can’t do that. Some poor person is getting their car urinated on! I think I might just turn left and go that way…

But then as I got closer, the strangest thing happened. He finished his business, then got into the car and drove off. It was his own car! This guy had decided “I’d rather wee on my own car in full view of the everyone, than use that public toilet over there”.

I spent my trip home thinking about that guy, and how we’re all so different. Never in my wildest dreams would I consider just going to the toilet where I felt like it. But some people obviously think very different to me. And I was again amazed at just how different we all are, and how we all have our own perspectives and different life circumstances.

Another guy who reminds me of that is Mr Sitting-On-A-Chair-In-The-Middle-Of-India man. When I was a teenager I went to India for a few weeks. As part of a study tour we went to some town in the middle of nowhere, and were touring around the back streets, looking at every day life in India. There were thousands of people milling around the place, but on one particular back road alley, there was one guy who caught my attention for some reason. He was just sitting on an old chair, next to his corrugated iron hut thing, watching the world go by. I only saw him for a split second as we drove past.

I saw hundreds and thousands of people like that, but sometimes I think about that man in particular. As I go about my hectic life, is he still sitting in that chair, down the backend of a maze of backstreets? What’s his life story? How is his life different to mine? What does he do all day? Is he still alive? Does he have family? What are his hopes and dreams? And like him, there are 6 billion other life stories going on at the moment.

Life has so many variations, so many different stories. We’ve all got a unique tale to tell.

So thankyou Mr Weeing-On-My-Own-Car man. You’ve reminded me again about the amazing variety of life all around us.