Place YOUR shoes out on the pavement / outdoor area / social environment and capture an image - post on social media using the hashtag #ToBeInYourShoes
Unknowingly, I boarded the same train carriage at the same time as he did,standing, apparently, just feet apart.
I didn't see him. Actually, I didn't see anyone. You know not to look at anyone on the Tube, but I can only guess he saw me. I guess he looked around at all of us, as his hand hovered over the detonation switch.
I know it wasn't personal. He didn't set out to kill or maim me, Gill Hicks. He didn't know me. No.
Instead, he gave me, he gave us all in that carriage a label, he made us his enemy. To him, We were the "other," the "them," as opposed to "us."
The label "enemy" allowed him to dehumanise us. It allowed him to push that button. And he wasn't selective. Twenty-six precious lives were taken in my carriage alone, and I was almost one of them.
By the time I felt that first touch from one of my rescuers, I was unable to speak, unable to say even a small word, like my name, "Gill." I surrendered my body to them. I had done all I possibly could, and now I was in their hands.
I understood just who and what humanity really is, when I first saw the ID tag that was given to me when I was admitted to hospital. It read: "One unknown estimated female." What those 4 words told me were very clear - that my life was saved purely because I was a human being.
Difference of any kind made no difference to the extraordinary lengths that the rescuers were prepared to go to save my life, to save as many unknowns as they could, putting their own lives at risk to do so. To them, it didn't matter if I was rich or poor, the color of my skin,whether I was male or female, my sexual orientation,who I voted for, whether I was educated, if I had a faith or no faith at all.
Nothing mattered other than I was a precious human life.
I see myself as a living fact. I am proof that unconditional love and respect can not only save, but it can transform lives.
Throughout all the chaos, my hand was held tightly, my face was stroked gently. What did I feel? I felt loved.
What's shielded me from hatred and wanting retribution, what's given me the courage to say: THIS ENDS WITH ME, is love.
I felt human love.
I believe the potential for widespread positive change is absolutely enormous because I know what we're capable of.
I know the brilliance of humanity.
So this leaves me with some pretty big things to ponder and some questions for us all to consider:
Is what unites us not far greater than what can ever divide?
Does it have to take a tragedy or a disaster for us to feel deeply connected as one species, as human beings?
And when will we embrace the wisdom of our era to rise above mere tolerance and move to an acceptance for all who are only a label until we know them?
This week we saw the haunting image of Omran Daqneesh, the little boy who became a symbol of Syria's Suffering.
For many, like me, we imagined what pain we would feel if this was our child, or indeed our family.
But I know that stare, that silent disbelief that Omran showed the viewing world, it was the same look that I saw in the aftermath of the bombing in the underground train carriage. I watched the footage of the rescuers, completely focussed on saving lives, prepared to risk their own lives in doing so - just as I experienced in 2005.
What can we do? How can we help when we, as members of the public feel so impotent.
I would like ALL those who face this bloody hell and who are suffering to feel the strength of human connection and indeed the human love that I did when I was fighting for my life after the bomb blast.
By reaching out, by doing something TOGETHER I can only hope that our collective and united effort will help a generation of children know something other than conflict - that beyond the sound of bombs there are people who KNOW and who want this to END.