Who Are You When No One Is Looking?

Last night Sprite fell asleep in my arms snuggling against my chest.  I felt and heard her soft breath.  The awareness that accompanies awakeness had disappeared.

This morning at breakfast I was reading the newspaper. Sprite said she likes to watch me when I’m concentrating.  In those moments she sees the pure me, the innocent me, and feels loving, just as I did when she fell asleep last night.

Like all actors, we put on a show when we think others are watching us.  We clean ourselves up and poke that piece of spinach off of our front teeth.  We present the person we want others to see.

How different are you when you know others are watching?  Do you pull in your tummy or stand a little taller?  Do you check your makeup or comb your hair?  Do you put a smile or a frown on your face?  I always smile when I walk into my office because I don’t want everyone to spend the day talking about why I wasn’t in a good mood.  I used to frown when my wife was watching and I wanted her to know how upset I was with her.

Does putting on this show serve us well?

Sometimes yes.  As I’ve previously mentioned, current research says that when you put a smile on your face you feel better.  In many cases, the makeup or the clothes do make the woman, or the man.  We feel more confident, act more self-assured, and as a result our lives and relationships improve.

And sometimes no.  Everything we do – every activity, every relationship, and every moment – has a cost.  When I distance myself from my true appearance or my actual feelings I deprive you, and me, of my truth. In living a life of partial deceit, I am never fully comfortable with my real self.

So it comes down to this: when we’re not putting on a show for the rest of the world, who are we?  What is our truth?  Even if our truth is not so attractive, isn’t your life, or mine, more meaningful, satisfying and worthwhile when we are willing to allow ourselves to be vulnerable and our humanness, flaws and all, to shine through?

I know one thing for sure.  When I’m not putting on a show for others I’m more relaxed.  I don’t have to monitor myself or worry about their reactions. I can enjoy spending time with someone who feels connected – even when she is just watching me read the morning newspaper.

So exactly who are you when no one is looking?  Are you yourself, or a celluloid stand in?  Which do you want to be?

There is one more question you might consider:

Who are you when you are not looking at yourself?

Alan