See Me

When I was little, I would hear people talk about clouds and stars. My mom would say, "Look, Panda! That cloud looks like a bunny!" And I would nod hesitantly. But my eyesight was so bad, when I looked up all I saw was a soft wash of blue and white, like a watercolor left out in the rain. I never knew what a star was, exactly, but I dutifully sang "twinkle, twinkle" with the rest of them. I knew they were all seeing something, but obviously I was doing it wrong, because I didn't.

After I got my glasses, I could see the leaves on the trees and the clouds in the sky. The stars were just as bright for me as for everyone else. I could see what they could see.

But as I grew older, really seeing became more difficult. I'm not really seeing those stars, but the light from gases long burned away. And back here on earth, I don't have to just see something. I have to see both sides of an issue. See their side of it. See my way clear to helping them out. See what is really going on. See behind the mask. It isn't enough to just look at things and see them as they appear. Now I have to see past the way they look and through to how they really are.

Just for today, I'm going to stop trying so hard to see and just look at some stars. Maybe even a cloud that looks like a bunny.