Is it bright or dull? Is it “out there” or “in here”? Is it seen or hidden?
We show each other our clothes, our smiles or frowns, the spirit of our walking.
Do we have a sign hanging around our neck, revealing who we are? Or is the back of the sign facing outwards … blank? And maybe there’s no sign.
Do we reveal our creations? Is it clear that we are a growing thing?
Do we choose to blend in, adjusting ourselves to each new environment? Or do we joy in contrast so that the heart of things can stand out?
Do we walk alone? Just with a favoured few? Or do we welcome all the world’s residents to stroll the paths with us?
Are we curious, freely admitting the span of our not knowing? Or perfectly sure of ourselves, confident with our “rightness” in every conversation?
Do we prefer curves or right angles? Are we akin to brick or wood or aluminum siding? Do we gaze up to the roof or peer into the basement windows?
Who does the world see as you pass by in the street?
And do you even want to know?
There’s no rule saying you need to