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paying attention.

one day, you realize you don’t just exist when they’re paying attention to you. you exist even when no one is paying attention to you. when no one is looking. when no one is noticing. you stop chasing the spotlight of other people’s attention (always looking for who’s looking for you) not just when you tire of it, but because it gets boring. it doesn’t matter who it is; it’s always the same feeling. it’s always that same version of you that hurries up and is made to wait.

real talk: you don’t need to pay attention to yourself. in all those years (maybe lifetimes?) of watching and waiting for everyone else, fully available for barely a hint or a signal so subtle that it barely registered (remembering how even the slightest glance in your direction could give meaning to your entire life) you weren’t focused on yourself. you were attentive to the other; patient, performative and faithful to the task. you were fine. all those years of no one paying attention to you and you not paying attention to you … it was ok. you’re still here. you didn’t stop existing just because no one happened to notice. you didn’t even notice yourself back there.

but what if you did? what if you started paying attention to you? to your own moods and thoughts, and feelings and hopes and dreams, with genuine interest in the truth behind every passing whim or fancy? what if you directed all that loving energy inward? i think you could try it and see if you like it. see if you could read yourself and feel yourself as well as you do for others. you might all of a sudden become interested in making your every wish come true. you could begin to feel peace and delight weave themselves slowly into the texture of your own life. just as soon as you stop treating yourself like a waiting room for doors too busy to open.