Lately, I have been making it a practice to see others more deeply, free from my own projections of them.
When I am not blinded by the hypnotic trance of my physical eyes, focused on their bodies or outer appearances, I am able to see them through an inner vision. And ironically, I can see them more clearly.
Free of judgement. Free of the associations from my conditioning. Free of anything that I desire them to be, in order to meet some shallow and imaginary need of my own.
As I allow my vision to be reoriented, I am able see others more as they are.
And in their eyes, I see layers of them.
The eyes hide nothing.
In a split second, I see through layers of personality into the depths of the soul.
I see their burdens, and their silent struggles that go unexpressed. I see the insecurities that they try to keep secret from others, and the bravado that they hide behind. I see the persona they present to the world, and I see the parts of themselves that remain shrouded and tucked away. I see the parts of them that they don’t reveal to others, let alone themselves. And in their eyes, I see the battles raging between angels and demons happening within their innermost thoughts.
And that is just the surface.
Within the same split second of looking into their eyes, I see an innocence. An innocence so pure and child-like, that it shatters me to my core. It breaks me open to the fragility of life. To the sacredness of every breath. A shocking yet soft reminder that we are only with each other for a moment. So make the moment count.
And in their innocence, I see the secrets of their soul. I see the treasures buried that they have yet to uncover. Their hidden genius. Their secret sainthood. Their sanctified spark of anointed praise.
I see something Holy.
I see something familiar, as if I have known them forever.
And I sense that we share a Home with each other. A Home not of this world.
And within the same split second, I see a kingdom of radiant light shining from behind their eyes. I see entire worlds of ephemeral glowing beauty, living deep within them, remaining untouched and pure, in spite of the ideas they hold of themselves. I see their resurrection. Little do they know, that they contain everything they are looking for.
They are the food from which they will never go hungry.
They are the waters from which they will never thirst.
The only mistake they have ever made, was not seeing who they truly were.
But I see who they are.
I will see them fully, until they see themselves.
And I will hold my memory of them in the forefront of my awareness, until they are able to remember on their own.
And it is only in my remembrance of them, where I remember myself.
How could this be any other way?
The eyes of another are mirrors into my innermost self. The pain that they carry is something of my own. Their fears and insecurities I have faced as my own greatest hurdles. The loneliness, the confusion, the heartbreak, the disarray – I know all of it. I recognize it in others, because it is familiar. It lives within myself.
And their innocence, their love, their hidden genius – they are also something of my own. The only reason why I can feel the depth of their love, is because I feel it coursing from within my own heart. How else could I feel it, if it wasn’t already alive in me?
And their hidden genius is my own brilliance that plays hide and seek. If I honor and nurture it within them, then I cultivate it within myself. I can be the space through which they come out of hiding.
All within the split second of looking into their eyes.
The eyes hide nothing.
Because it is the same Self that looks back at us through the eyes of another.
And if it is the same Self, then how could anything be truly hidden?