Larger? Smaller?

I wonder. Some things are obvious, such as love is better than hate. Others are subtle.

Adults are taller than kids. But would we say they’re more important? I hope not. A 12-year-old is simply on a different journey than a 40-year-old. Well … the same journey but at a different stop along the way.

Then there’s the well-dressed socialite heading out to a party. On the street outside, an old man leans against a fence, holding a paper cup. Is the woman “larger”?

Someone has a Hollywood face and another’s is pockmarked, with a prominent mole.

There are beings who walk upright on two feet with upper limbs swinging freely. And those who gallop down the beach on all fours.

Some of us live in the penthouse of the sky-high condo looking down on New York City’s Central Park. Others look up through basement windows to a sliver of daylight.

Many have skin of white while some fellow inhabitants of planet Earth see brown in the mirror.

And what of the ants who crawl across our path? Maybe we don’t even notice them underfoot. Understandable since they’re awfully small.

Do you have a PhD? Or did you need to leave school at 14 to provide for your family?