To Be Seen

"I see you," Neytiri says to Jake in Avatar, as she holds his frail body - his human body - for the first time.

Previously, she had known him as one of her kind, the 10-foot tall, blue-skinned Na’vi. But in this exquisite moment, he lay in her arms in his human form after she had just saved his life. She is seeing him as his true self, with all of his weaknesses laid bare before her.

Jake looks up at her and, in fact, initiates the sentiment. “I see you,” he says. He could've chosen at that moment to turn away in shame, but it was too late for that; they had been through hell together. So he presses into the vulnerability, not knowing if she will reciprocate those profound words. In a heart-melting crescendo, she does, and with the utmost sincerity.

What makes this scene so memorable has nothing to do with the superior acting or the believable graphics. It sticks in your mind because it is something we all desperately long for. Whether we want to admit it or not, we all want to be seen. Truly seen. We want someone to see us in all of our naked glory - proverbially and otherwise. We want our blemishes, our beauty, our imperfections and our quirks to be seen in the light - and accepted. Not just accepted, but unreservedly embraced. This is the experience of being known.

To be known is equally frightening and fulfilling. In an online culture where our lives are lived less in the analog and more in virtual reality, we can go days, weeks, or in recent times, months, without allowing ourselves to be seen. Or rather, without the opportunity to allow ourselves to be seen. The experience of being known is like a muscle. Without regular practice, it will atrophy and we will sink deeper into our own little cocoon. Where we are safe. Where we are alone.

Being known is the result of pure, unabashed connection. Herein lies my passion. I tell people that my passions are writing and dancing. I've recently added "looking after my baby" to this list. However, these things are only physical expressions of an underlying passion that governs my goals, my wishes, my decisions, my daydreams: the experience of true connection.

What's beautiful about this passion of mine is that it is shared with most, if not all, of humanity. It is a funny passion to have, as a self-proclaimed introvert. But like a tree that appears to stand independent and strong in a forest, it is thriving because of the root system it is connected to.

There is no need to reinvent the wheel here. We have many modalities in place to facilitate face-to-face communication across the globe, or the city, or even across the hallway in an apartment building. Likewise, incredible humans, such as Brené Brown, have dedicated their lives to exploring and encouraging connection through the art of vulnerability.

My question is: how often do we put these things together? What if we had regular access to questions - "writing prompts", if you will - that we could utilise in our interactions, whether with our local barista or our loved ones? Wouldn't it be great to have a phrase or two at the ready to push past the small talk and get straight to what we are all really after? To establish true connection, however brief?

How much more meaningful would your latte acquisition be if you wished the barista a beautiful and inspiring day, and saw their look of delighted surprise at such a sentiment? What if your sister that you talk to regularly (but you two never seem to get past the weekly update) suddenly said, "Hey, sis, what do you most desire and what's your biggest roadblock in getting it?" Imagine what conversation would unfold from that. Imagine what thoughts you would allow yourself to think, dreams you'd allow yourself to dream, if you sat with that and truly considered it.

Connection, after all, isn't just about other people. Unless we practice vulnerability and transparent connection with ourselves, we won't be able to establish genuine and lasting connections with others.

Taking the time to genuinely see others requires a paradoxical love of self and a death of self. We must first find the bravery to get comfortable in our own skin, and then be willing to set ourselves aside in order to provide the space for others to simply be. This takes time, practice, perseverance, and grace when things get messy. For myself, reading books authored by those wiser than myself has been an invaluable part of my journey through connection and vulnerability. A journey I will forever be on.

So what does this passion look like, tangibly, in a perfect world? How can I add value to the lives of others in a platform worth supporting? I have an idea for a two-tiered membership that would provide such a thing.

Inspired by Nina George's notion of a "literary apothecary", and Maria Popova's Brain Pickings, tier one would be a monthly delivery of inspiration and [loving] challenges to your inbox. This inspiration would take the form of book reviews, followed by quotes and questions to spark connected introspection, and the chance to practice intentional interactions with loved ones and strangers alike. Think of books as your initiation into connectedness. Books are not inanimate objects, as they may appear to some. They contain stories, and stories are medicine. They are soul food. They are life changers. Some of my most cherished interactions with friends and family have been initiated from a book or film that sparked our creativity or challenged the status quo of our daily lives.

In this extraordinarily perfect world within my imagination, tier two of this membership would include all of the goodness of tier one, as well as monthly gatherings. Both online and in the flesh. There are many creative ways to be intentional about perceiving a neighbouring soul, and our monthly meet-ups would give us a chance to explore these modalities, using what we’ve learned from the monthly inspiration. Not the least of these being active listening, extended eye contact, and dancing. To engage in such practices is to make an investment in enriching your life. These gatherings would be divided up into small groups to facilitate genuine exchanges, because it is far too easy to feel alone in a crowd, no matter how much you want to connect with those around you.

Allowing yourself to be seen, known, and embraced, and intentionally holding space for others to do the same is not only life altering, but it makes life worth living. To facilitate such interactions for others through inspirational books, quotes, questions, advice and purposeful interactions would be an honour and a joy. I firmly believe that the more people intentionally seek true connection with themselves and others, the better our world will become.

Be seen, be known, be loved, be you.