Summer Reblog: I wear my sunglasses at night

What do we risk when we are seen?

I once read a biography about John Lennon. In one particular scene, an argument between George Harrison and John was described.  As the tension escalated, John suddenly removed his glasses. Peering into George's face John quietly said, "It's only me George. It's only me."

The act of removing his glasses and saying such simple words was both powerful and vulnerable. It suddenly allowed for true connection without any perceived or real barriers. And it opened the door for honest communication and healing to take place. 

This one scene got me thinking about the barriers we often create, either knowingly or unknowingly, with others.

I suspect we do so in order to protect ourselves; to keep our vulnerability closely guarded.

You see it when celebrities walk through airports with their sunglasses on.

You see it with couples as they talk at each other rather than with each other.

You see it with strangers as they keep their heads down while passing by.

You see it everywhere you look...people connecting to a screen rather than with a human being...face to face.

No one is truly looking at another eye to eye.


Too scary.

Too vulnerable.

Too intimate. 

Perhaps there is some truth to the saying, "the eyes are the windows of the soul."

After all,

when we truly look at another person - eye to eye -

when we truly see them...

we open ourselves up to be seen as well.

And that can be scary.

That is when our thoughts take over: what if they don't like what they see?

Oh, that's a big one. 

That one can hurt.


perhaps we are failing to consider what we may be missing?

So...let's consider.

What if we took the time to really look at each other?

Eye to eye. 

What if we allowed ourselves to be seen?

Truly seen...

By our family, our friends, our neighbors.

What if we allowed ourselves to see another?

Truly see...

Our family, our friends, our neighbors.

What doors would open?

Connections take place?

Understandings occur?

Healings begin?

Love blossom?

Magic happen?

I wonder.

Lana Bastianutti