The Gaze

It's brilliant. Stare long enough. I dare you to just stare until time stops ticking. Long enough that you can see every shadow and hear its thoughts by simply staring. You notice its uneven surface. Stunning. Stare long enough and it comes into focus. Everything does in a silent gaze. 

Stare long enough and it seems closer than you memorized it to be. Stare long enough and it becomes familiar and so much more magnificent. You scare yourself; wanting to break the gaze; it's too much. Almost too great to know what to do with. The thrill rushes in when you realize you're not the only one observing. Your admiration isn't in vein. Humility, validation, significance comes over you. You too are seen. You were staring as a spectator and suddenly realize that you are the one being admired. 

Spectacular.  

You are standing there unable to hide. To distract. To blink. To find a quick pretense to break the moment. It's too late. You don't want to. 

You've been seen. Completely exposed for your own mystery.  Seen. An equally magical exchange. 

You've been so used to only admiring and wishing from a distance. Don't get too close. You labeled it as ordinary to dispel its power. How can it be you have allowed yourself to be completely unseen for this long? You didn't even realize how good you have become at brushing magic aside until this moment. You had forgotten the freedom and lightness of it. The magic that there's something greater than you at play? To take the time. To believe in it again. It's been there all along.

I wished on the moon for the first time tonight in what's been years. Lifetimes as it seemed. And I realized that it's been shining brilliantly over me during my darkest nights. During the most mundane and simple and unexpected nights. There when I was blindly navigating through. Gently watching. Allowing me to go through it. I didn't have to be extraordinary for the light to be. 

For the first time in years I stared. I really studied its magnificence. I let it see me. I admired its grandeur and in that, found my own. I thanked it through my stare.  Realizing it's seen everything. It's fully aware of my flaws. My unevenness and ever changing light and shadow. It knows how sometimes I'm there to get the task done and don't show myself truly; at least not in ways where I shine the brightest. It recognizes my paralyzing fears and acknowledges my practice to overcome. 

And it glows even still.

Isn't that what a great gaze does? The allowing ourselves to be seen and to see another? A recognition of our greatness, our magic, our seemingly mundaneness, our connection, our inner dialogues free of sound, our 'this is me without having to explain', our wishes, our fears, our wants, our hopes, our please's and could be's and if only's...