Window to the Soul

Who am I?

To attempt to define “me” in one lifetime, much less one sitting is nearly {and even comically} impossible. For even I hardly know yet. Who I am is a very volatile, ever-changing term. I’m unpredictable, even to myself. And aren't we all, in our own way?

Perhaps a portion of our self-definition lies in our relationship with others. Whether or not they realize it, every individual helps make up, and influences the sum of, the incalculable mass – the convoluted whole. We lead lives that are solely our own, yet constantly cross paths with one another - and are interconnected in intimate and distant ways. But I wonder if the common, chance happenings may have more significance than we realize - or, perhaps, could have more significance if we did realize.

Isn't it funny how

(And I daresay I am the least of those immune to such an oversight) we are so prone to make hasty judgments based upon the first few words we hear spill out of the mouth of a stranger? This person has a lifetime behind them – an entire life thick with the layers of experience. Perhaps they have known cruel pain, unimaginable joy, possess enviable talent, have undergone disheartening trials, and have ventured to dream of things not yet known possible. Perhaps this person is passionate about something that you love, or knows exactly what you are going through when you thought nobody did. Within the eyes of this stranger lie the shades of maybe’s and what if’s, yet when you overheard him express his distaste for your favorite band, you instantly assumed him to be far from your "type" of friend. I wonder what one would see in me.

To one I may be:

The girl next door. the ward pianist. the small-town dreamer.

the 1100th BYU student. the oldest of four.

another statistic.

But beneath the surface there is so much more. If one paid really close attention, perhaps they would see a girl who can’t walk past a bookstore without going in. Perhaps they would see a girl who has bookmarked the site for airline prices from Salt Lake City to London on her work computer, when her gas tank is usually running on empty. Perhaps they would notice that from time to time she accidentally slips into French phrases. Perhaps they might see a girl who prefers walking everywhere she goes, and can't stand the constraint of conformity, for she will never fit in a box. Perhaps they would notice her slight obsession with photography blogs and how cooking is her remedy for a long day at work and school.

Perhaps they would be surprised to see a girl who can have really bad hair days and can get lost on her way to a destination she's been to a million times. They might be astounded at how she can get teary-eyed over the smallest things.

Perhaps they would see a girl who dances and sings when she thinks she is alone, who smiles the most when she's with her sisters and can't stay away from home for too long. Perhaps they would see a girl whose mind is always teeming with new ideas and brilliantly insane schemes. They would see a girl who fanatically pens her musings and dreams in her favorite little notebook, venturing to wonder if one day they will come alive on the page.

I would hope that they might see a girl who gives to others when she thinks nobody is watching, who loves the Lord with every ounce of her being.

But then there are layers deeper than that – far deeper than the eye can see.

They are the layers that each person holds close - the layers that truly define a person. They are rarely exposed to the world, yet within them lies the source of our humanity. They are what brought Mother Teresa to the streets of India, what sent Martin Luther King to face mad men with bold articulation. They are what guided the strokes of Michelangelo's paintbrush, and the genius behind Aristotle's mind.

We all have a story to tell and it is what defines us. Maybe one day we will look into the eye of that stranger and truly see what an incredible life they have lived and look to them in amazement for what they have become and what they are.