what you see...

I think we spend a lot of our time with the blinders on. You know, just going through the motions... or I do anyway. I think we almost never really see the people around us. And when we do happen to notice them our judging mechanism quickly dehumanizes them, calling them "Hot!" or "Fat!" or whatever else trips our trigger.

I am not talking about making eye-contact, though I have noticed for me, even that seldom happens. I am talking about really seeing people. Looking at them. The entire package. Looking at people without judgement, but rather with love.

Years ago, it was suggested to me that I look at the purple-dyed mohawk wearer with black leathers and body piercings standing next to me in the grocery line and find one nice thing to say... like "Whoa! That color (of hair) really goes with your eyes!" It was pointed out that this person probably doesn't get a lot of positive feedback and the smallest congenial comment might make their day.

I have read that women, when they enter conversation say things like, "I like that dress" or "great earrings!" , that we have been trained by our environment to do this as a way to fit into the society. I have noticed that I do comment on these small things as daily practice, but that this kind of talk is not the same as being aware of that person who might put me off. This kind of talk is part of some type of pre-programmed polite-speak, and that I can do it without really being aware of the person I am complimenting at all.

But seeing people is so important. A couple years ago I told myself one morning that I would practice seeing Jesus in the eighth graders who came up to my desk. And I did, though I needed to continually remind myself that this was my intent. The funny thing was that by the end of the day I liked them, really liked them... and I think they liked me. Something moved.

Once I asked a women's group where they saw Jesus, and I got answers like, "in the choir, in a old person's face, in a baby..." and then I asked how often did they see Jesus in that person with the sign at the freeway entrance looking for a handout. Ah, yes, that one is harder.

Charlie, the assistant principal walked into my office one day and complained about the rash of discipline related issues he had to deal with. I remember I said, "Pray for Peace." and he answered me that it was a waste of time. He said all the nuns and the priests prayed for peace and there was no peace.. what good would it be for him to pray.

And I answered, "Imagine if every teacher in this school prayed for peace, and if every parent of every child prayed for peace, and if every person in this community, state, country, world prayed for peace and lived for peace. Don't you think we would have peace then?"

It begins here, with me. It begins with how I see things, with what I long for. It only blossoms when I open myself to the love being offered. It only grows if I feed it with my faith, my intention, and my presence. This movement happens one person at a time, one interaction at a time. It is happening right now.