If every moment you could really see things as they are, every moment you’d be weeping.  If I could see more and more clearly, I’d be crying out of sheer joy and wonder, but also out of grief for all I’ve missed and continue to miss.  I’d be on my knees, soul brimming with gratitude and reverence and awe for the astounding, beautiful, terrible reality of it all – for everything I’m blessed enough to see, and for all that’s unseen.

(Anonymous … to me)

This is August, the prime character in the movie Wonder.  He makes me think.

What does it mean to “see things as they are”?  What do I see when I look at August?

How easily negative thoughts come to my mind when I see a face that’s different from most of ours.  I’m conditioned by my society, which keeps whispering to me about what’s cool and what’s not.

I see skin.  The eyes ask me to see soul.  I need to sit down with August and listen to what’s important to him.  I need to “see more clearly”. 

Sometimes the humanity of a person is bright the moment they walk through the door.  Sometimes it needs to be gradually revealed, aged like fine wine.  So be patient, Bruce.  The butterfly is coming.

I choose to not have the physical appearance of another person stop me.  To not have it be thick and black and my thoughts coming to an abrupt end.

Rather, my seeing needs to be porous, mysterious, and branching out into unknown possibilities …

Hello, August