eyes to see

I spent a lot of my life convinced I didn't like people. Sometimes, just sometimes, I'd even say I hated them. People did things I didn't like and said things I didn't understand. I couldn't control their actions or words, the volume of their voices, or the amount of coffee they drank to make their breath smell the way that it did. The noise, the hurts and disappointments, (the odors)...for me, for a time, they assaulted me from every angle. I couldn't go out in it without sufficient time for recovery afterward and it seemed wiser, safer, to separate myself from it as much as possible. Or at least limit the amount of time I was out and about in uncontrolled environments and, especially, uncontrolled audiences.

And I liked being alone. A lot.

Yet in the last year, my feelings have changed. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but it fascinates me, the change. The best illustration I have is this:

have you ever loved someone, really loved them?
completely and unconditionally? (as unconditionally as humanly possible)
even the rough bits?
the hard bits?
the bits that get tangled and messy and sometimes leave scars?
have those bits ever become,
i don't know,
endearing to you?endearing because they are part of the person
the person you love?
have you ever been able to look at people,
in general,
that way?
with those eyes?
and love them and delight in them
even when they're stepping on your toes
or elbowing you in the ribs?

That's what it's been like. Lately. Not always, never always (and never perfectly) but the fact that it happens at all convinces me God exists. The fact that my easily-offended-and-flaw-seeking eyes can see more good than bad in the people around me (and not just the ones I love, because they are easy); the fact that I can smile and laugh in situations that used to make me grimace and run away; the fact that I can even handle being surrounded by people, lots of people, for long periods of time and not need to go off by myself for a week to recover...these things are proof.

And so I think, maybe it's not that I don't like people. Maybe I just couldn't get past myself to actually see them before. And maybe it's just that I don't like crowds. Maybe it's just that I don't like big crowds of people, crowds of strangers.

And that's okay.

Number Eight: PEOPLE. Who knew?