Today I am thinking about my “blind spots”. We all have them. They are the things that we just can’t seem to see about ourselves, or others, or the world around us. I can be blind to both my faults and my gifts, completely unable to see myself the way other people see me. And let’s face it, do I really want to?
The scary thing about my blind spots is that I don’t even know that they exist. What am I missing? What am I blissfully unaware of? Those things that if I understood about myself might require some sort of change, reparation or apology on my part?
But if I do want to begin understanding my blind spots, where do I begin? I begin by being willing to see. That statement may seem obvious and simplistic, but I can tell by the feeling of dread in my stomach as I just contemplate the possibility, that it would be very difficult. What if I told all of my friends, my husband, my family, my kids that they could tell me all of the faults they see in me? All of the times that I have failed them. That I want them to tell me these things. Would I be able to stand and listen or would I end up a puddle of quivering self loathing jelly who retreats back into the safety of limited vision?
As frightening and painful as it may be, I want to live my life with my eyes wide open. I want to know the truth about myself and about the world around me. This doesn’t mean that I am sending a blanket statement to everyone to list all my character flaws, but it does mean that I commit to be awake in a new way and to listen to everyone around me in a deeper way. There is a very good possibility that they can see something that I cannot.