Mostly we're a mob that has seen it all, done it all, and can see through everything. You can't tell us much we don't know, mate, because we were bloody well there at the time. We either built it with our own hands, or paid for it, or know the sheila that did. And as to what our politicians are saying, well, we can see that for what it is – self-serving mechanical manoeuvring that we could do so much better if we were in the saddle ourselves.

But not this time.

In the wake of the the appalling events at the Lindt Cafe on Monday morning, our great city has pushed away cold cynicism, and instead reached out for his warm-hearted cousin, empathy.

You can see it in the Martin Place field of flowers that has formed like a rainbow after a shocking storm, placed overwhelmingly by people who never knew the victims but who ache for them and their families.

You can read it in the notes from strangers, and the drawings of their children, attached to those flowers, which will eventually be collected, bound, and given to the grieving loved ones.

You can feel it in the crowds, forming long, silent lines around the barricades, their searing sense of sadness for what has happened, but also, somehow, expressing a strong sense of community that we are going through this together. Together.

You witness it in mass movement on social media of #I'llRideWithYou, a commitment of tens of thousands of Australians to stand by those who might risk abuse for something they have absolutely no part of.

You can hear it in the words of the religious leaders of all faiths and stripes who have stood shoulder to shoulder, not apart.

And our politicians have led well, none more than Premier Mike Baird who on the day of the attack noted, "We are being tested today in Sydney. The police are being tested, the public is being tested, but whatever the test, we will face it head-on and we will remain a civil, democratic society."

Sydney has passed that test. We have empathetically turned to each other, not emphatically on each other. We have helped give strength to the family and friends of those so cruelly murdered.

And no, it can't bring them back, but it is something . . . really, something.