It’s terrifying sometimes, being seen – truly seen. In those moments I want to shrink back, slam the door and retreat into the gloom, where this vulnerability is reduced to memory and potential only. For so long I have carried the habit of holding others at arms’ length, making sure no one ever got too close – close enough to hurt. It was lonely, yes, but it was safe. I was safe.
I am revealed now; all of my pieces and parts have been seen and can be seen again on a whim, smeared on a slide and placed under the lens of a microscope for careful examination. The kicker is that I’m still safe, really, under her gaze. She does not mishandle my revelation. Every new facet of me turned under her loupe, she cherishes. But it is just that: new, uncharted territory, the new frontier of my being, and I cannot know for sure just what that territory holds within its undiscovered boundaries. To give myself over to an unknown–it’s reckless and joyful and maddening, but at times I am sucker punched by a fistful of fear, wondering if I have gone too far, revealed too much. Questioning myself: why can’t I just stand alone as I have always done? Why do I give myself over for another’s study, or approval? Why do I feel compelled, why do I FOLLOW the compulsion to show her everything? Why not retain a little mystery?
Therein lies the true mystery, or perhaps the solution: my thought processes need to be switched from thinking that the mystery is diminished with each new bit of me that I reveal. Each of us, we are beautiful mysteries gift-wrapped in human skin, but even more so than that, we are masterpieces of fractal art: mystery built upon mystery, sinking down further and further until the naked eye, the loupe, even the microscope can no longer discern the separate puzzle pieces. They can only marvel at the sheer beauty of the universe they have discovered – ever expanding, ever building upon itself in an endless, infinite scroll of glorious human nature.
To that end, I let go of my fear. I let go of the death grip I have on my own self, and I give myself over unto revelation. I peel back my protective layers and let the underlying surface of my mysteries shine through, beckoning her in to look further, to discover more, to dig and sift – gently, please! – until the universe of my spirit lies before her, and she is awed by it. I am not diminished by this openness any more so than a galaxy, a nebula, a newborn star is diminished by being captured in the lens of the Hubble. I AM a revelation, and my mysteries delve deeper than any mind can fully comprehend. Such artistry as this should be shared, not locked away in a vault whose walls are built of fear. The most satisfying developments in our lives are often the most terrifying at first, but I will steel myself and take that leap – I will leap into my stars, touch them, dance among them, and let them shine.