Things are not always as they appear...
Thinking on our need to visually interact with the world...
I am eternally fascinated by the fact that there is NO SUCH THING as reality. I mean, what one person literally sees is totally different than what another does. For example, just last week I was feeling depressed about getting older (I know, I know, I am not allowed to get that way until I am at least out of my twenties... I just feel so much older than I really am, I have always been a fish out of water), and also feeling generally unhappy with my physical appearance, when I am confronted by a very different interpretation of who I am.
Really, mostly I hate looking at myself, I am fully incapable of not honing in on my myriad imperfections. As a kid I had a word for them (I am starting to sound hyper neurotic, ok, I confess.) "imperfecacies" I liked the idea that I had created a unique word to drive home my ultimate unloveability. This was somewhere between the ages of 11-13, when, as we know, we experience hell on earth as our bodies go absolutely wonky in a matter of minutes and then fail to right themselves for several years all while our consciousness of "others" has magnified in its depth one-hundred-fold. I still can't trust my own eyes to determine what I really look like. Honestly, I never look the same twice.
But as I was wrapping up my teacherly duties, erasing the antiquated chalkboard (I always wear black and I always end up with dusty handprints in the most innoportune of places) two students who were waiting to accompany me to my office for extra help were giggling. "she's soooo cute." I look up. The other says, "She's always saying that." and the first says, "You are, you're so cute, I just want to hug you!" I smile. "Well, uh, I do like hugs and I probably wouldn't have a problem with you hugging me, but, maybe we should refrain..." (I am laughing). Student two, "you're like, the most laid-back instructor ever!" Me, "I try." Student 1, "How old are you?" Me, "uh. 27." "Really? you look so young! I mean, it's a good thing... we thought you were much younger. You're just so sweet."
I know, I have a deceptively angelic look about me, but little do they know... about the devil inside. (sorry, had to do it, INXS jumped out).
It is always nice to be appreciated, and with this particular class, I have several puppy dogs (boys and girls) that follow me out after classes, just to talk politics or music, or history, and mostly I think it is because I make them feel safe and I take the time to really make each one feel special (at a university this size, these classes are often the only ones in which their instructor knows their name, at least until they get to their final year and take seminar classes). Which brings me to the point. It is amazing how transparent we are as beings, how we transform what is on the outside by what is seeping out from the inside. If one is looking with eyes of hate, there will always be a fault, a flaw, an "imperfecacy" to be found, but if one is looking with eyes of love, well, that is another story completely.
Now if only we could teach ourselves to look at ourselves with such acceptance.
I am eternally fascinated by the fact that there is NO SUCH THING as reality. I mean, what one person literally sees is totally different than what another does. For example, just last week I was feeling depressed about getting older (I know, I know, I am not allowed to get that way until I am at least out of my twenties... I just feel so much older than I really am, I have always been a fish out of water), and also feeling generally unhappy with my physical appearance, when I am confronted by a very different interpretation of who I am.
Really, mostly I hate looking at myself, I am fully incapable of not honing in on my myriad imperfections. As a kid I had a word for them (I am starting to sound hyper neurotic, ok, I confess.) "imperfecacies" I liked the idea that I had created a unique word to drive home my ultimate unloveability. This was somewhere between the ages of 11-13, when, as we know, we experience hell on earth as our bodies go absolutely wonky in a matter of minutes and then fail to right themselves for several years all while our consciousness of "others" has magnified in its depth one-hundred-fold. I still can't trust my own eyes to determine what I really look like. Honestly, I never look the same twice.
But as I was wrapping up my teacherly duties, erasing the antiquated chalkboard (I always wear black and I always end up with dusty handprints in the most innoportune of places) two students who were waiting to accompany me to my office for extra help were giggling. "she's soooo cute." I look up. The other says, "She's always saying that." and the first says, "You are, you're so cute, I just want to hug you!" I smile. "Well, uh, I do like hugs and I probably wouldn't have a problem with you hugging me, but, maybe we should refrain..." (I am laughing). Student two, "you're like, the most laid-back instructor ever!" Me, "I try." Student 1, "How old are you?" Me, "uh. 27." "Really? you look so young! I mean, it's a good thing... we thought you were much younger. You're just so sweet."
I know, I have a deceptively angelic look about me, but little do they know... about the devil inside. (sorry, had to do it, INXS jumped out).
It is always nice to be appreciated, and with this particular class, I have several puppy dogs (boys and girls) that follow me out after classes, just to talk politics or music, or history, and mostly I think it is because I make them feel safe and I take the time to really make each one feel special (at a university this size, these classes are often the only ones in which their instructor knows their name, at least until they get to their final year and take seminar classes). Which brings me to the point. It is amazing how transparent we are as beings, how we transform what is on the outside by what is seeping out from the inside. If one is looking with eyes of hate, there will always be a fault, a flaw, an "imperfecacy" to be found, but if one is looking with eyes of love, well, that is another story completely.
Now if only we could teach ourselves to look at ourselves with such acceptance.
posted by ilana at 4:05 p.m.
18 Comments:
Please refer to my last comment on your previous entry/post.
Have you ever thought that our inner fires (devils inside) are what feed our external auras? We all should learn to aknowledge our own inner beauty above what we may or may not look like on the outside. If others can see it, why can't we?
It's the eyes, Oscar, everything is in the eyes, just like Ila said. If you are happy, and loving, and caring, your eyes will always see whatever they see, in the same way that they feel and viceversa. But just like you said too, if your inner self projects love, and happiness, and beauty, that's exactly what the eye of the beholder will see.
Oscar: again, you are really too kind. (btw, I am trying to make my google IM work, but I have a Mac and my OS isn't compatible, aguantame si?) I think you are right, which is why... I want to see so I can say nice things about you, other than the fact that you take wonderful pictures and write very interesting stories...
Flor: I hope you are feeling happier, and if not, te mando vibra cariñosa para que te sientas mejor, ok? It is the same way with what we project through our writing, don't you think?
Exactly! That's why it was so cool to meet (when we met) and feel like we know eachother so well (though some of us haven't met yet) and feel deep affection towards eachother through our writing.
Yo lo que creo es que alguien que puede charm people live and in writing is not capable of any imperfecacy.
Amen to that!
Sole, Flor, una vez más demuestran ese afecto tan suyo. Gracias. Tuve una larga conversación con Idealist Savant sobre lo mismo... por qué podemos razonar que lo que somos es algo bueno, deseable, amable y a la vez sentirnos insufucientes siempre? Pero lo bueno de escribirlo es que funciona de terapia gratis con personas como uds. que son mejores (y más agudas) oyentes que cualquier psicoanlaista.
Lani, for you dear, I can afford to wait forever!
Y palabra que ya casi publico alguna foto mía. //Confesión: Yo nunca aprendí a asimilar un piropo (compliment) cuando se trata de mi persona. No elaboremos al respecto. Agradezco desde el fondo del alma cuando, por ejemplo, Flo dice de mi las cosas que dijo en tu "post" anterior, pero de alguna manera me hace sentir incómodo. No es falsa modestia, de verdad. Es solo uno mas de entre mis muchos "glitches" mentales.
:)
Je,je,je, para mi que esa incomodidad de Oscar se tradujo en un "rush" de hemoglobina en la carita de nuestro querido amigo.
Pues si! (dicho con falsa expresión de indignación) A nosotros los "chiquitos" tímidos nos sucede así ¿y que? >:oP
No pues, lo dicho: a veces son tan transparentes...
;o)
O sea, estamos hablando de tamaños ya? Oscarcito... que fácil es hacerte sonrosar;)
Ooooh my God! I can't wait for Oscar's reply to that size remark, Ila!!!!! ja ja ja
Chiquito=Nene=Young Boy
¡Que barbaridad con estas nenas! Les da uno un poco de cuerda y ya le están sonsacando a uno de tamaños y todo. Pues hoy me siento inusualmente generoso, y les voy a proveer con la información cuya adquisición parece tenerlas "bailando en una pata", a saber, mi tamaño. Para que lo que les pueda servir, Oscar Zamora mide 1,83 metros (6 ft) y pesa 83kg (182,98lbs). ¿Estamos?
X)
Oh! qué magnánimo de vuestra parte... no, no estaremos hasta que estemos;) digo... me debés todavía y como me pediste que te chingara (en el buen sentido, er. no en el mal sentido. ah no sé) hasta que te animaras... pues la deudas se pagan o sólo es en la isla Solentiname? BTW, ya tengo instalado el coso ése, a ver cuando hablamos...
Just one tiny little question: what on Earth is BTW???
Ja! JA!
BTW = by the way... sorry, and while we are at it, BFD= big fucking deal. IMHO = In my humble opinion...
Hey! Thanks for the tips!
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