Monday, April 11, 2011

Not on His Island.

(photography by Tabitha Bird)

He is not obliged to look at you. Not obliged to be anything other than blind. And he likes it, this blindness. The way his eyes are opened without seeing. The way his mouth can kiss words like, "I tried," when he never moved his feet.
He imagines who you are. You aren't like him.

He likes his walls iced with roof on top and his windows edged with shutters.  The way his house holds him in, tucks him back, and presses around him. The way his mouth can whisper words like, "I didn't know," while he stayed inside and held his own hand.
He imagine who you are. You are outside.

He likes winter's teeth removed by central heating and summer's sticky fingers wiped clean in his pool.
He has long forgotten words like homeless, penniless,  anchor less or voiceless. Because he is not less. He is middle. Middle class, middle age. Middle income. Neighbors are people who park cars in the driveway next door. Strangers are everyone. Even him. Especially him. He has become suburbia. When he walks through the front door he can mute the channel when refugee eyes stare back. He is not obliged to look at them. Not obliged to be anything other than blind.
He imagines who you are. You are not on his island.


What about you? Do you live on the island of House? It is so easy, too easy to lock ourselves in behind picket fences, mowed lawns and automatic garage doors... don;t you think? Is there a group of people you tend to forget about because you are not 'less'? 

16 comments:

  1. This post goes with the last three sermons our pastor has given at our church. It's been a local outreach conference - all about seeing and serving "the least of these". I admit, when I drive by a panhandler, sometimes I pretend to change my radio station. I'm working on this part of myself. ASking God for a tender heart and fresh ears and eyes to see people as He sees them

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  2. I enjoyed the read Tabitha, thanks for sharing,

    Yvonne.

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  3. I again love your visual wording and the message this post brings. I was once in that house and now am one of those that others don't see going through the struggles that so many are today with our economy. My eyes are opened.

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  4. I've been trying to open my eyes. Sometimes I do better than others.

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  5. I'm gearing up to walk to help stop sex trafficking of young girls in Cambodia. When I told a preschool mom about my cause she gave me the oddest look that seemed to say, "Why would you do that?"

    I do things...that's who I am.
    ~ Wendy

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  6. This is so true, Tabitha. If the problem doesn't affect us personally we shut ourselves away, live in our own little world, never realizing how sterile it is.

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  7. We are taking a road trip to the Midwest next month. Several nights we'll be staying in the homes of people we've never met, rather than in a motel. Stepping out of our comfort zone in favor of something new. It's not much, and it's not too closely related to what your post is about, but it's something.

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  8. Our houses have become too comfortable and our porch-sitting days are gone. We have to make an effort to know who's living right next door.

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  9. Thanks to all who visited :) I too need to make an effort to find out who lives next door.

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  10. I am on my island much of the time, because it is where I write and I'm lost in that world of words.
    You've raised important questions in this post. I do not have ready answers.

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  11. Tabitha, you are such a profound thinker. I would love to sit on the beach with a fun drink with you someday and ponder life's mysteries. But I know, this is serious, and you're right. We all do this -- every single one of us. We all put up walls. You know what's interesting that I've thought about lately? We don't even know ourselves as much as we ought. We cannot know all of who we are. God is the only one who have all the details in his sights, even ours. Pretty cool to think about, and humbling too. That doesn't excuse us, but sometimes I think, we are just so human, all of us. Fun to see your butterfly tonight, twice. Had to stop by. :)

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  12. I meant "who has" but God really is three in one, so "who have" might just work, oddly enough. :)

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  13. Beautiful post, Tabitha. Thanks!

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  14. Very thought-provoking, this. I love the way you think (and write), Tab.

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  15. We were much happier as kids because we got out and walked our world. We explored all the nooks and crannies, knew where the good hiding places were, knew how our neighborhood looked under the street lights, we touched the ground, we made it our own.

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  16. I know... I live in a place like that. When I walk my dog in the neighborhood people tend to retreat back into their garages in order to avoid the 10 or so seconds a "hello" costs...

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