Losing sight

If you decide to change something about yourself, should you tell others? Or should you just try to make the change and see if others notice?

 

 

 

There is plenty that I’d like to see changed in myself. The problem is that I usually cannot see those changes, not really. Only others can. Which leads me to wonder if any changes that I’m trying to make are actually happening. If someone doesn’t say anything, how do I know if I am making any progress?

Not a day goes by without expanded awareness of a host of traits and habits that I could improve. Potential targets for change range the gamut, from attitudes and interpersonal behaviors to knowledge, understanding, and daily health decisions. I should smile more. I should listen better. I should stand up straighter. I should eat healthier. I should focus more time on things that are meaningful. I should stop taking myself so seriously. I should start taking others more seriously.

Maybe I’m not unusual; there are probably others out there who struggle regularly with their personal foibles. Humans aren’t perfect, either at birth or at death. Logic therefore suggests that we are destined – and maybe even designed? – to have challenges in between those two points. On occasion, the experience of imperfection can be uplifting, as there are regular chances to become better. It can, however, also be humbling, providing my days with routine opportunities to become bitter.

Unfortunately, for me, disappointment in personal growth is sometimes evidenced in sarcasm.

No, really?

I never would have thought that.

Do ya think?

Adolescence empowers young people with the power of wit, double-meaning. In partnership with the eye roll or eyebrow lift, teens can voice irony in the briefest of replies to peers and others who make statements of the “obvious”. Unfortunately, the art form can persist beyond adolescence and be honed over a lifetime. What may begin as youthful impatience and emotional ennui can become a semi-permanent interaction style, reinforced by media-biased discourse and sloppy interpersonal communication techniques. Teasing, practiced for too long, can descend into mockery. So-called sardonic wit, sharpened too assiduously, can take on more bite than bit, more rudeness than reasoned response. Sarcasm can make sincerity seem obsolete.

We need more sincerity.

So I’ve started to watch for it in others. And I see it – regularly. What I see isn’t necessarily large or grandiose displays of personal emotion and exposure. It is typically small and focused, tiny yet noteworthy revelations of another person’s intent or feeling or perspective. The most genuine examples are often acts and expressions that are, at their core, simply honest and expectation-free sharing.

I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. 

That makes me smile.

Thank you.

A sincere “thank you” stops my heart. Sometimes I don’t let it show but, when I hear it, I feel bathed in truth. Honest gratitude is an expression of soul. There is no you or I. There is us, there is our common experience, there is shared sensibility and ego-free engagement.

There is no need for mirror when gratitude appears in our lives because the experience of thankfulness removes barriers. You aren’t looking to be noticed when you are thankful; I’m not trying to be heard when I thank you. There is no need for reflection because we are, when we are sincerely grateful, together, the same. There is no imbalance. Our experience is one.

And feeling like one, even briefly, reminds me that I don’t need as many shields, scorecards, and self-indulged sarcasm in my life. I don’t need to be told that I’m making progress in removing and improving my imperfections. I am simply here. I am free – for a moment – from the framework of separateness.

So please don’t notice if I’m able to be a tad bit more sincere and a larger portion less sarcastic. Or, if you do notice, please don’t tell me about it. My reward is not in what is observed by others. Nor is it what I see when I look in the mirror. It’s in losing track of me through the experience of us. It is losing sight of the mirror.

Thank you for that gift.

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