Live Your Life Be Free!

One of the worst feelings I remember as a kid was feeling invisible. Being a bit shy, if I was somewhere new, I would feel a bit uncomfortable… but as soon as someone acknowledged my existence it would feel much better. Also I remember adults and others talking over me and believing I couldn’t understand or make decisions but oh yes I could… why wouldn’t they listen? These things are all very normal, because I hear people talking about it all the time, in terms of feeling like that when they were kids and about how they need to be special (in beauty, smarts,  achievement, fame etc.) in order to be visible and stand out.

When I returned to Canada from living in Japan for a year as a teenager, I had an especially large fall from being very visible (an English-speaking westerner with light features) to being pretty much anonymous again. I went from getting strangers asking to get their pictures taken with me in Japan to blending in completely. And – it was disheartening. Again, this is normal – I have friends upon returning from Asia, shared the same experiences.

So – the least I can do in light of people’s need to be visible is acknowledge people in life. So – stuff like thanking the TTC drivers once in a while, making sure my little nieces and nephews know that I care about what they say and think or talking about life some in business dealings – even with people I may talk to only once ever – like a receptionist after I dial 0 (I know what it is like to be a receptionist and I know how invisible that can feel sometimes). Not in a way that wastes anyone’s time of course – just enough where I acknowledge the humanness of the other person, and they can acknowledge me.

One place where it feels impossible is with homeless people – since so many people stop seeing them as they blend into the rest of the street making them invisible. It is hard not to do it. There is a homeless guy near my office who calls me "peaches" every time I walk by. And I smile – an acknowledgment for both of us I guess.