One of my aunts once described me as a child. She said I was like a little librarian, quiet and generally off by myself all the time. I think she also said that she used to worry about me. . . .lol. . . .but I think it's a pretty good description of me as a child. I have always preferred pursuits of a solitary nature. . . .not one to have a lot of friends. . . .and I generally don't have a problem with this (in and of itself). . . .but it strikes me as odd tonight just how much I seek to avoid being seen. . . .really being seen.
Thinking of someone I met when I was in Bellingham, an artist who observed others the same way that I do, only I wasn't used to being seen like that myself. It felt eerie, strangely distant and cold, although I knew that it was the same way I observed others. . . .deep and piercing. I've had people tell me how uncomfortable they felt the first time they met me. . . .as if I were looking right through them. Yet to be the center of observation myself. . . .lol. . . .a different set of rules, apparently.
What is it, about being seen, that makes me turn away and want to hide who I am?
Such a strange paradox. . . .this reluctance to be seen, yet at the same time craving from my depth to be known and accepted. And I can't help but wonder if other people live in this kind of paradox, too. Is it something that we all do? Hide, but crave to be found?
This is exactly what I love about the journey to myself. All of a sudden I can see clearly all of the ways I used to hide as a child, yet secretly wanting to be found, like a psychological "hide and seek" that is far from being just a fun and frivolous childhood game. And it's crazy how so much of our identity as adults is invisibly wrapped up in the experiences of a long ago forgotten child.
This is why my best friend in high school had no idea about anything that was going on inside of my world, why "mirth" is the word she uses to describe me, even though I was deeply sad and depressed. This is why my grandmother once said to me (as my life and marriage was falling apart around me), "I don't even have to ask how you are, you're always great!" This is how my husband married a woman he knew nothing about, and why I have always felt orphaned and misunderstood.
The truth of who I am has been hiding in the shadows, unable to be seen or known by anyone else.
Yet, it's not really about being seen by others, as much as it about allowing myself to be seen, which is not the same thing. Other people are going to see whatever it is that they want to see, so that really isn't my concern. But for the parts of me that have been in hiding all of these years to step out from the shadows into the light of day? Now, that is a different thing altogether.
But am I really ready to be found?
There is a peace that can only be found in solitude. I can imagine a person who has been living "lost" on a deserted island for a long time might also question if they wanted to be found. To have accepted a life of solitude, especially if one finds peace within the quiet. . . .it's not an easy thing to give up, or to move out from the shadows and into the light of day. And the truth is that this person was only lost to the outside world, not really to themself.
So I guess I am ready to be found. . . .just not necessarily by other people. . . .because it's a good thing to have boundaries that separate the outside world from my inner world. . . .and ultimately, the only person who can really find me is me.